


SCtober Prompts!

by Zeezzerpan



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Aasimar, Arch Fey, Arson, Dragonborn (D&D), Dragons, Drow, Elf, Half-orc, Tabaxi, Tiefling, high elf, kalashtar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 22,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26758168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeezzerpan/pseuds/Zeezzerpan
Summary: This will be all of the written pieces I am doing for SCtober this year! All characters are original dungeon and dragons characters, though not all of them are mine! I will be sharing who belongs to who in the author notes of each piece!
Kudos: 5





	1. Reborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryoko has waited a very long time for her dearest friend to return, and she is starting to lose hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, today's word is REBORN! This is based on a bit of backstory for one of my dnd ocs named Kharon that I wrote last year in October for a different set of prompts!

It had been so long since the Spellplauge, and Ryoko was growing weary. As a dragon, the passage of time was nothing to her, but having lived so long without a hint of Clever's return to Toril made Ryoko doubt she would ever see him again. Clever was just a tiefling, and a fool, but she had grown to love him as a dear friend, and longed for the day when his soul would be born anew. Yet year after year, there was no trace of him, not a single sign. Before he died she hand entwined their souls, so that she may sense him once he was back on the prime material plane, but it had been so long, she had started to fear that perhaps she had made a mistake. That perhaps he had come back a hundred times over but she just couldn't sense him.

She tried to dispel the idea, she was a dragon, a powerful magic user, and so strong with her age. But at the time she was young, at the time she was distressed, at the time, she might not have sealed her soul to his. He could be only continents away, and she would have no clue, reincarnation after reincarnation. Time would not wait for her to find him, and so thousands of years would pass, and though she would manage to find temporary friends in mates and children, it all rang hollow compared to Clever.

Ryoko felt a fool. Clever was a nobody, he was nothing, and yet she loved him more than anything or anyone, and that love had never once wavered. She wanted to move on, she wanted to forget, she wanted all of these things but her heart would not let her. She, a dragon, a creature above such things as the course of love as she knew it. She, a dragon, a force that lived beyond that of all mortals, that need not their frivolous and fleeting relationships. She, a dragon, that had found no greater company than that of a short lived tiefling, and loved nothing more. She was a joke of a dragon, but even knowing that, her feelings did not stop.

More time had passed then she cared to count, and though she knew exactly how long it had been, she did not want to count the millions of days gone by without him. Once again she was in her lair, guarding a fresh clutch of eggs. The hot desert kept them warm, and her body kept them warmer still. There were three in total, and they were all developing properly from Ryoko's well practiced care. The father had long since left, by Ryoko's wish. He had offered to stay, but she had raised enough hatchlings to know a father was more trouble to her than he was worth.

She tended to her clutch with diligence, it was nothing she hadn't done before. She would watch them hatch, she would raise them just enough for them to take to the skies and find a home of their own, and then she would not see them again. Some of her children did return, but it was rare, most dragons preferred to keep to themselves. Now though, they were merely eggs, and Ryoko lay atop them, body carefully situated to keep them safe and warm in the sand of her home.

She thought nothing of the day, there was no significance to it. In her mind it would pass as most days did, quickly, and without need for alarm, yet she thought wrong. Curled up on her clutch she felt something she had never experienced before, she felt a sudden longing to move, to leave, to go immediately and search. She felt a presence, a new and fresh life, beautiful and young, calling to her. Her heart started to stammer and speed in her chest as she lifted her head and looked up to the sky as her mind raced with what this must mean. It wouldn't take long to click, and with a cry of relief that sent lightning to the air, she realized that finally, Clever had been reborn.


	2. Bandages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takoshi dreams of the all consuming flame, not accounting for the kindness of others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Today's prompt was Bandages! There's some hot fire and a wee bit of arson in this one! Enjoy!

Takoshi had expected the burns, he knew them well. What he didn't expect, was for the human who he was traveling with to rush in and drag him away from the flames. If he had just been given a moment longer he would have been consumed, but the phoenix inside him would have brought him back, it always did. He didn't even think much for his companions. He had not spoken to them, not at length, and they had hardly said a word to him, but this human, this man he had been traveling with for convenience, had risked his own life to save Takoshi.

Once free from the fire, the man could only stumble a bit further before collapsing to the ground, Takoshi falling from his arms and rolling a few inches away. He coughed, and sputtered from the smoke, rolling onto his back to look to the burning building just as the foundation crumbled and caved in on itself. Still hacking, he looked over to Takoshi, and carefully picked himself up to kneel beside him. Unprompted by anything other than kindness, he brought out bandages from a pack on his belt, and started to wrap the burns along Takoshi's arms, the fabric having been burned away leaving his skin to be eaten up by the flames.

Takoshi could only wheeze the ash from his lungs. The pain was intense, but it always was... It always was before he died, he had come to know it well, especially the pain of fire, but that was how he liked it. To be so surrounded by flame that when it erupted from his body to bring him back to life, he was one with the inferno.

That was what this fire was supposed to be, never an accident, though it looked as one. Takoshi was meticulous when it came to his arson, everything was set just so to make an incredible blaze, while leaving the blame up to unfortunate calamity. He just wanted to see the fire, he just wanted to see it burn, feel it burn. The spread was slow enough for everyone to get out safely, while he remained in the heart of it all, ready to live through another masterpiece of flame. It made his heart race, it made him feel alive, and once it was all settled, he would emerge from the ashes and leave, presumed dead, and free to continue as he pleased. But this time, things did not go according to plan.

As he felt the human dress his wounds, Takoshi blinked his eyes open and croaked out a cough before reaching into the mind of the man to speak to him.

_You didn't need to do that._

The man jumped, startled by the sudden voice in his head, before remembering that as a kalashtar, Takoshi was capable of telepathy.

"You would have died. I couldn't live with myself if I lost a party member like that, when I could have done something to stop it. Rest, I'll dress your wounds so they won't get infected, and we'll bring you to a healer."

The man had no idea, but, Takoshi's love for fire was a well kept secret so he could live an unassuming life, how could he know?

"What on earth were you doing in there? Why didn't you get out when the smoke started?"

Looking through the broken lenses of his glasses, Takoshi turned his gaze to the sky. He could feel his burns scream from the tight wrappings, the bandages slowly becoming soiled as they took in his blood and pressed against his charred skin.

_I was looking for something precious._

The man paused, and looked between Takoshi and the still burning structure, before returning his gaze to his hands, focusing on the bandages.

"Did you find it?"

_No..._

"I'm sorry... I imagine, if you were looking for it in there, it wouldn't be able to survive the fire."

_No..._

"But... No material possession is worth more than your life."

Takoshi looked up to the face of the man. It was covered in ash that dirtied his cheeks and his hair, along with the rest of him. His clothes were singed, but it seemed, he was otherwise unharmed. Their eyes caught sight of one another, and for a moment they just stared together in a silence met only with the roaring of the flames so close by. The human was the first to look away, returning to looking at his work.

"I'm not a healer, but there is one in this town that can fix you up, right as rain. You won't have a single mark on you once they're done."

Takoshi had not looked away from the man's face. What kind of man he must be to save someone he knew so little about... It was admirable... But it did not truly help Takoshi, it did not bring him the thrill he felt when consumed by fire. Still... He risked his own life for Takoshi's, and that meant something, though, only a small something. It was kindness he did not deserve, but it was the kindness he received, and so as he closed his eyes and focused on the embrace of the bandages, he sighed.

_Thank you._


	3. Wanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kharon isn't used to love, and now that he's found it, he doesn't know what to do with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's word is wanted, which is something Kharon hardly feels. This one is basically just exposition on Kharon and his emotions, but it was fun to write none the less!

Feeling loved was unusual to Kharon. Not because love was rare, on the contrary, he had a lot of friends who loved him, but because he had literally forgotten what it was like. With his memories erased from his accident, he had lost the idea of what it was like to feel wanted. These days he had to think about it, to remind himself, which was difficult when his brain damage made him feel worthless and wretched. He had forgotten a lot of things when his head cracked open, and though a lot of it was still there, some things were just gone, and it left him broken.

He had forgotten who he was, his entire past before the incident was a mystery, and for months he had gone searching for himself before he found his friends, his family, but he had also forgotten how to accept that they cared. In his time before them, when he was alone, he was often mistreated just for being a tiefling, and the pain of the screaming and the beatings shaped his mind. Even when people treated him with equality, they instead showed him disdain for who, not what, he was. He made smart jokes that went too far, laughed at unfortunate events when he found them funny, and seemed to take nothing seriously. This usually rubbed people the wrong way, and he was often called out as being horrible for finding humor in other's pain.

All of that only taught him, that, though he didn't know who he was, that person, Kharon Newsummer, was awful. Cleary this must be true from his past and his present, it was the only thing that made sense. He hated himself, but it was hard not to rely on the habits that were so ingrained into his person that not even falling off a mountain could wipe them away, making change difficult. He wanted to be different, he wanted to be better, but he also wanted to be himself, be the his real self. It made him conflicted, it made him struggle, but he continued to laugh and joke, knowing it wouldn't matter, knowing he wouldn't see these people again after he left to continue his search.

Then one day, by pure happenstance alone he found them. He was hesitant at first, to agree to travel with anyone for an extended period of time, but one of them, Fineas Faygorn of Dawnhaven, made mention of possibly knowing Kharon from a time long before any accidents, when they were both much younger. With intent to one day ask Fineas for more answers, he agreed to go with him, and the rest was history. Now they were inseparable. They would get frustrated when he teased, especially Gryida, but even when he took things too far, they never told him to leave. They cared, and that was such a foreign concept to Kharon, it hardly crossed his mind.

It was so different, to think people wanted him there, to think he was loved, and that in itself was pathetic to him, but that didn't stop them. They stayed with him, they liked him, despite, and possibly because of, the jokes and the come backs. It didn't make sense to Kharon, and because of that, it was hard to remember. When it did come to mind though, it made his heart stumble and skip with relief from his loneliness, it made him want to cry. They loved him, and it was more than Kharon ever thought he would find.


	4. Corrupted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vasati has made his final mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! Today's word is corrupted, and today we have some very special guests! Mr. Moonlight is an arch fey who is determined to "Make his reach as far as the moonlight itself," by collecting the names of people from the prime material plane, thus putting them under his control. To get your name back, you must learn and say his true name, but there are very few people who know this. Vasati, a high elf who acts as Mr. Moonlight's right hand, is one of the few people who know it, and often feels far too much sympathy for people who've had their names taken.

He had done it so many times, he was used to the punishments now. Vasati had once more given away Mr. Moonlight's full name, and when it was said aloud he was face to face with the arch fey. The man he had freed fled in terror, and rightfully so, but Vasati could not. Mr. Moonlight was of an inconceivable visage, though with the gift of the sight, Vasati could make him out as a living shadow with wild yet desolate white eyes. It was now that he stared into these eyes, and from Moonlight's presence alone, spreading through the air around him, Vasati felt the dread. It was thick and it was heavy. It turned his guts to something denser than a black hole, sinking them deep into the ground below. It was frigid and cold, like a winter tundra, while blazing hot as a summer desert, and it ached.

To anyone without the sight, they would only see what must be empty space around some sort of body, surely, but it was hard to look at, and it's reach was only growing, making the world itself incomprehensible. To Vasati, he saw the shadow, growing, spreading like poison through veins, the wicked white specks of Moonlight's eyes blazing and bright amongst the pitch. It was as he degraded the world around him that Mr. Moonlight finally spoke.

"Once again, Vasati, do you disappoint me. I am tired of playing these games with you." Even his voice was hard to comprehend, a wild howling and a bitter whisper all at once. "Do you take me for a fool? Do you think you're above my punishments? Clearly they are not working, clearly, I will have to show you more meaningful consequences for your actions. I will break you down, and remake you. Perhaps I was a fool, to think merely raising you in my image was enough, but you will not be a mistake. You will be fixed."

Before Vasati could respond, what could only be Moonlight's hand snapped out and latched onto Vasati's face. What was likely fingers dug in against Vasati's skull, and instantly he began to scream as shadow began to crackle around him like lightning.

Mr. Moonlight had a way of making his touch feel both physically and emotionally, but in this moment he was going far beyond that. With his hold on Vasati tightening, he sent a powerful surge of energy through Vasati's body, shattering his mind and spirit. To Vasati, it was a thousand sensations at once, all of them painful, most of them contradictory. He felt bludgeoned, stabbed, burnt, frozen, exploded and imploded as his very being was destroyed, replaced with Mr. Moonlight's will. To Vasati, it lasted an eternity, but the act itself was only seconds long.

With a thunderous crack, the shadow dispersed, and Moonlight relinquished his hold. Vasati stood in silence, now entirely changed. He was no longer Vasati, merely a puppet, corrupted by Mr. Moonlight's power. His eyes were completely white, devoid of color and as empty as he was, glowing slightly like the light of the moon itself. What had gripped Vasati's face only seconds before now caressed his cheek, a possible thumb rubbing over the bone.

"There you are now. I should have done this far sooner. Let us go home, Vasati."

Vasati's only response was a slow nod, before both he, and Moonlight, vanished from the prime material plane. They left nothing in their wake, the land as vacant as Vasati's soul.


	5. Frozen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's too cold to go outside, and with a new present from a good friend, Swift is just about to go batty if he has to stay indoors any longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy! Today's word is frozen! Swift (Swift is a virtue name from his father, his given name is Serenity, which is a virtue name from his mother.) is a tiefling boy of mine! He's a fighter who worked as a town guard for his mountain town home before going off to adventure, but he wasn't always. This scene is set a few months before he goes into guard training.

The door opened with a clattering creak, the wood warped from the cold dry air, the hinges snapping up the ice that had frozen on the outside. It closed in a similar manner, and with a harsh shove that shook the house. Steinn brushed snow from his clothes as Freyr patted him on the arm in greeting.

"Are you cold?" Freyr knew the pointlessness of this question, but out of common courtesy he asked it anyway.

"Freyr, I'm a white dragonborn, I am always cold."

"Colder than usual."

Steinn chuckled as he finished brushing away the last of the snow and started to pull the pack off his back. "I'm fine, beside, you keep it cozy in here, I'll be alright."

"You know my frail human body can't live without that heat, especially with that blizzard out there."

"I know, I know, you're built like a wet piece of news paper. You'd freeze up and shatter if you didn't keep it, how many degrees hot in here?" With the pack off, Steinn started to remove his coat, gloves and boots. "Where's the boy?"

"Serenity is in the kitchen, trying to busy himself with lunch and a book. I swear, these days when he can't go outside drive him right up the wall."

"Well, it's a good thing I'm here then, now I can make it worse." Once all of his outdoor gear was off, Steinn picked the pack back up and headed into the kitchen of the house, smiling when he saw the teal tiefling pacing around the dining table with a book in his hands. "Swift, stop that, you're going to wear a moat through the hardwood, that's how you get crocodiles."

Swift looked up from his reading, a vibrant grin reaching his face when he saw Steinn. "Steinn!"

"Yes, that's me, now get a marker and put that book down, I have something for you." He nodded to what he was holding. It was a long rectangular box, wrapped in blue cloth that Steinn had tied to his back with rope to allow for easy travel.

Swift looked to the box, and then back up to Steinn, his eyes going wide and his grin going wider. "Is that...? Are those...? Steinn, is that them?"

"You'll just have to open it up and find out." Steinn set the box down on the table, untying the rope.

Swift started to bounce on his heels in excitement, setting his book down without care to save his spot, and quickly taking to the box. Once the ropes were off, he unwrapped the cloth, running his fingers over the bare pine wood before pulling the lid away. Inside were two swords, freshly and expertly crafted, just for Swift. He picked one up to admire it, and then set it down in exchange for the other, letting out a pleased sigh as he ran his fingers along the steel.

"These are incredible. They're perfect. Can we train? Can we spar? Right now?"  
  
Steinn laughed. "Swift, the mountain is frozen right now, we can't even send out the miners. The snow is still coming down, we can't go outside."

"There's the training hall though isn't there? Inside? In the guard house?"

"That's for the guard only Swift, and you're not quite there yet, you're only seventeen."

"Steinn!" Swift groaned, head rolling back to face the ceiling as he complained. "It's going to be frozen for like, a week! How am I supposed to wait an entire week to use these?!"

"You'll have to be patient."

"You just gave me new toys and I can't even play with them!? What's the point of that?!" Swift was clearly playing up the dramatics for the fun of it.

"Swift, you must remember your training," Steinn chuckled. "You have to wait for the precise moment to strike, or you could very well lose the battle."

"Booooring!"

"Hush now." Steinn's chuckle became full blown laughter as he listened to Swift whine.

"I'm going to _be_ a guard once I'm 18, can't there be like, an exception for a future guard or something?"

"Only once you've been accepted before you've been officially given the title, during your guard specific training."

Swift gave an overdramatic groan. "How am I going to survive a whole week, maybe even longer, without using them?!"

"Swift, where did all your patience go?"

"My name is Serenity, not Patience."

This only elicited a bark of a laugh from Steinn. "Very true! But maybe you should try that name out for a bit, it might be good for you."

"You're the worst you know? Taunting me with my first swords when I can't even use them."

"I am truly horrible."

"You really are."

"Hey now!"

The two shared grins before laughing together. Swift took up both blades, gripping the hilts tightly as he felt just how perfectly they rested in his hands. He inhaled heavily, fingers squeezing even tighter than before, and held the moment, his joy and his breath. Letting it all out, he put the swords back in the box, returned the lid to its proper place, and wrapped it all back up in the cloth.

"Thank you, Steinn."

"Of course, I wanted to get them to you as soon as they were ready. Happy early eighteenth birthday."

"That's not for like, half a year more, Steinn."

"Yeah, but you're not getting anything else from me."

"I guess I can accept that."

"Good. Now, what's for lunch?"

"Oh yeah, I didn't actually find anything yet."

"Well then, why don't we search together?"

"Of course!"


	6. Divided

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party has been split! Kharon and Kava need to try and find a way back!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kava is a leetle five foot tall white dragonborn owned by a friend of mine! They're part of a party that's going through the official Cult of the Dragon Queen D&D campaign! This is some hypothetical dungeon crawl where the two of them got separated from the others! They have a very fun dynamic so I wanted to write them.

The door had slammed shut in an instant. This cut Kava and Kharon off from the rest of the group, and though they tried to open it, it would not budge. They couldn't even hear anything from their friends on the other side. Whatever it was that this door was made of, seemed to blot out any connection between them and their friends. The party was now divided, and as the pair gave up on trying to get the door open, they turned to get a better look at the room they were in.

It looked like some sort of study, with a an active fire place illuminating the room, showing off its many bookshelves and arm chairs. There was a large desk near one of the walls, with another chair behind that. If it weren't for the fact that they were trapped in the heart of a base of operations for the cult of the dragon queen, it might even be cozy.

"Well what the fuck are we supposed to do now?!" Kava huffed, going over to one of the arm chairs and kicking it, causing it to teeter on its own legs before settling.

"Okay, so, we're here, and they're there, and that door is not going to let us get back that way, so we have to find a new way out," Kharon offered, walking over to one of the book shelves, skimming over the titles on the spines.

"And how exactly are we going to do that?" Kava was all huff and puff, flopping down into the chair she had just assaulted.

"Well, we got in here through a secret passage right? Maybe there's another secret passage out."

"How would we even find it if there is one?"

Kharon turned back to her with a wide grin on his face. "I was thinking, we could wreck the place until something works."

Almost instantly, Kava hopped out of the chair. "Fuck yeah!"

Without a moment's hesitation Kava kicked the arm chair over before going around to topple the other ones. Joining her in the destruction of the room, Kharon started to throw all of the books from the shelves, though, taking a second to read each title to decide if it was something he wanted to keep or not. Most of the books were about the history of Toril, and therefore completely boring and useless.

It didn't take long for all the shelves to be emptied and all the chairs to be overturned. Without any sign of exit, the two turned to the desk at the same time.

"Maybe the answer's in there," Kava mused.

"And if not, maybe there's some documents or something that we can use, you know, for our quest thing," Kharon offered.

"You mean stopping a cult from summoning Tiamat and killing numerous other gods?"

"Yeah, that."

"You make it sound so lame, probably because _you're_ so lame."

Kharon laughed. "Yeah, probably."

"You're not supposed to agree with me!"

"But you're right."

"Just shut up!" She emphasized her words with a punch to his shoulder, using enough force to make him stumble to the side, though, it didn't take much to push him.

Kharon just laughed again, lifting a hand to grip the shoulder Kava hit. "Ow! Hey!"

"Oh fuck off, I didn't hurt you."

"Kava, I have glass bones, you could have _killed_ me."

"I just might if you don't shut up! And stop laughing!"

Kharon quieted his laughter into soft snickering, as the pair of them walked around behind the desk. There were a few drawers, two cabinets, but not much else.

"So, I guess we just start opening shit?" Kava looked up to Kharon as she said this.

"Yeah." He nodded in agreement before the two of them began to rifle through everything they could.

There was little to find, blank paper, writing materials, a whole bunch of nothing, and then they came to the thin drawer beneath the center of the desk. It was locked.

"Well, that's suspicious." Kharon sat down in the desk chair as he spoke.

"No duh."

"You can pick it though, right?"

"No duh!"

Kava quickly made short work of the lock, and soon they pulled the drawer open. There was only one thing to find inside, a single metal switch, and when it came into the light they paused.

"You switch it," Kava ordered, not lifting her gaze.

"Ah yes, have the wizard, with glass bones, flick the mysterious switch."

"You don't have fucking glass bones!" Kava groaned. "Fine, you fucking baby." Slowly, she reached a claw over the switch, finger hovering before closing her eyes and pushing it.

At first there was no response. Kava opened one eye, and then the other, looking around with another groan. Just as she opened her mouth to complain however, there was a grinding noise as the fire place itself, started to swing away from the wall. For a second they stood together in shocked silence, until they heard a voice from the other side.

"Kharon?! Kava?!"

"Fineas!" Kava rushed to and through the exit, and once his own shock wore off, Kharon chuckled as he headed out after her. They had essentially killed two birds with one stone, get out of the hidden room, and trash the place. Kharon would consider this a job well done.


	7. Parasite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Vasati forgets his place in the world, Mr. Moonlight will kindly remind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Today's word was parasite! And it involves some nasty manipulation on Mr. Moonlight's part! This one does involve mental abuse, so please read with caution!

"Hello Vasati."

What could only be Mr. Moonlight sat in the chair behind the desk of his office, greeting Vasati as he stepped inside and closed the door behind himself.

"Sir..."

"Please, take a seat." Something that might have been a hand gestured to one of the arm chairs on the side opposite of where Moonlight could be sitting.

Vasati, of course, did as instructed, averting his gaze from the piercing white eyes that stared him down as he took his seat. He faked eye contact, looking just below Moonlight's stare.

"Now now, look at me."

This was a compelled order, one Vasati couldn't deny, though every fiber of his being wanted to fight it. He was powerless to Moonlight's will, and so, their eyes met.

"Do you know why I have called you in here today Vasati?"

"For work, I assume."

"Normally that assumption wouldn't be wrong, but today it is so. You have been absent here, Vasati. In what free time I allow you, you are spending less and less of it inside the gateway. You have gone so far as to rent yourself an apartment in the prime material plane, you see your little friends constantly these days, you seem to have forgotten your place."

"Sir... I... I always come back when you call, when I need to be here, and you... You never cared with who I spent my time with before, sir, why is it different when I'm actually happy with my company?"

"Vasati, why do you exist? Don't look away now, and answer me honestly."

The hands in Vasati's lap clenched and for a moment his lips pursed as he was forced to keep eye contact. He knew the answer Moonlight was looking for. It was what he had been told his entire life, what Moonlight had wormed into Vasati's mind until it was immovable.

"I exist to serve you, sir..."

"And how does finding happiness fit into that?"

"It... It doesn't."

"No, it does not. You do not exist to be happy, you do not exist to have any sort of life outside of your work. You exist to do your job."

"Yes, sir."

"Now boy, do understand, I tell you these things because they are the honest truth. It is pointless for you to find happiness with those on the prime material plane. You will outlive them, and what will that leave you with? A broken heart that takes attention away from your work? That will not do, you know this. You have one true purpose in this world, and it is to do as I say. Don't go fooling yourself with the idea that you deserve happiness, you already have everything you deserve in this home."

Vasati had heard words like these many times. They had latched onto his brain like a parasite, the repetition making them so real to him. He had been fed these ideas since he was a child, and Moonlight was careful to assure that Vasati's own thoughts would feed them, making them stronger.

"I do not care what you do in your spare time, but you cannot forget your purpose for living." At this point, the shadow that was Moonlight got to his feet and walked around to the other side of the desk, to comb a hand through Vasati's hair. "You are my right hand, Vasati, your life is one of destiny, never forget that."

The touch was soft, like a warm cashmere blanket that had been sitting in the sun by a bay window. It felt like home, like belonging, like everything would be alright. Vasati took a short shuddering breath as the sensations filled him, with comfort and unease. He knew what Moonlight was doing, but he longed for the care so badly that anything, even care used as a guise for destruction, made him want to make Mr. Moonlight proud of him.

When the touch was withdrawn, Vasati let the breath out, just as shaky, his eyes closing tight as he felt a want for the contact to return. His knuckles had turned white from how tensely his fists were held, and as Moonlight stepped back to the other side of the desk Vasati forced his eyes back open to stare down at his clenched hands.

"Now, why don't you be a good boy and get some work done?" A manila folder came into existence on the desk, sitting on the side closer to Vasati. "And when you finish, come home, where you belong."

"Yes, sir."


	8. Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gryida and Kharon are posed with some Bad Luck, and good luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's word is trapped! Gryida is a half orc character that my friend owns! She's a lot of fun, and one of Kharon's best friends! He likes to push her buttons, but, she manages to get back at him in her own ways.

The day's forecast had called for clear skies with a light breeze and zero humidity. The forecast had lied. The storm came quick and hard, like a baseball bat upside the head, though far less painful. It did however, leave anyone walking and unprepared completely drenched. As was the case for Gryida and Kharon. They had managed to find their way to an over hang for some sort of shop or another, with Gryida shivering and hugging onto her arms as the downpour had chilled her straight to the bone.

"Gods alive, where the fuck did this come from?" Kharon spat out the words, trying to squeeze as much water out of his clothes as he could.

"I don't know, but it was completely unnecessary!" Gryida huffed, squeezing herself in her hug a bit as she tried to warm up.

"Well, until it clears up, we're trapped here." Kharon looked up to the crying sky with a frown as he said this.

"Where even is here?"

Simultaneously the pair turned around to see what store exactly was giving them shelter from the rain. Pleasantly enough it was a cafe, one that was open even, with smells of warm food and coffee drifting out into the open air.

"Okay, so, maybe getting trapped here isn't so bad," Kharon mused.

"Let's just get inside already." Gryida opened the door as she said this, stepping in and letting out a pleased sigh as the warm air hugged her, welcoming her in. Kharon followed after, wiping some wet from his face as he took in a deep breath to smell the aroma of pure comfort from all around.

With the chance to now look at their surroundings, they saw a cozy space with worn wooden furniture, and a counter by the far wall connected to a pastry case. Accompanying the scents of coffee and food was that of burning wood, the crackling and warmth of which originating from a little round stove by the left most wall. There were only a few people there, spread out and minding their own business, not looking up to either newcomer in doing so. This was actually a relief to the pair, as being a half orc and a tiefling usually got them met with some interesting looks.

In fact they only caught the attention of one person, who conveniently enough, seemed to be the only employee, seated on a stool behind the counter. A black cat tabaxi, with short fur and wide chartreuse eyes that smiled at them.

"I see luck has both found you in good and bad graces today." The tabaxi spoke with a voice as contradictory as sand, rough and smooth at the same time, and oh so warm. "Caught in the rain, but in front of a safe haven? Tymora must be fickle today."

The pair looked between each other and then back to the tabaxi, before approaching the counter. If they were going to be stuck there, they may as well get something. Gryida was the first to respond.

"Yeah, well, it definitely could be worse, I can agree on that."

Kharon snickered as he looked past the tabaxi to the menu boards hanging up on the wall. "I mean yeah, we could be stuck under an overhang that wasn't actually for anywhere we could go inside. Or, you know, we could still be getting rained on."

"Thank goodness we're not," Gryida huffed as she followed suit.

"Then the Unlucky Cat was lucky for you after all," the tabaxi offered.

"Why would you name a cafe the Unlucky Cat?" Kharon looked down to the tabaxi as he asked this.

"Well, I am, by more than name alone, Bad Luck." Bad Luck's smile grew wide, revealing his teeth. "This is my business, and therefore, it is as unlucky as I am."

"If it really were that unlucky you wouldn't even have a business," Kharon countered.

Bad Luck laughed, a noise not unlike wind chimes on a calm day. "Very true! Tymora and I have a very, complicated, relationship. Now, what can I get for you today?"

"Just a minute, I still haven't decided." Gryida finally looked down to meet Bad Luck's gaze, giving a slightly apologetic smile before lifting her eyes to the menu again.

"Well, I know what I want," Kharon pulled out his wallet as he said this. "I'll pay for both of us."

"Excuse me!" Gryida's eyes darted down to her friend. "You paid for food the last three times we hung out! Put that wallet away! Or else!"

"I dunno, I kind of want to know what or else is," Kharon challenged, grinning up at her as she squinted down at him.

"I swear one of these days I'm going to throw you out a window," Gryida puffed before snatching his wallet from his hands.

"Hey!"

"You're not paying, your wallet has been confiscated to assure that."

"Confiscated? What, is there contraband in there?"

"Yes, credit cards that are not allowed to be used for the rest of the day."

"The rest of the day?!"

"The rest of the day." Gryida was the one grinning now as Kharon huffed and rolled his eyes.

"Let me know when you are ready to order." Bad Luck chuckled out the words, looking between them both with a smile that crinkled at the corner of his eyes.

Kharon sighed. "Yeah, alright." He paused a moment to look back out the windows at the front of the building. As much as it sucked to get caught in the rain, he was at least glad for his company. Being trapped, even in a good place, wasn't fun, but being trapped with Gryida wasn't that bad.


	9. Opposite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vasati is used to a lot of things, unfortunately, kindness is not one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so, today's word is opposite! It's a little shorter, but I just wanted to share a small moment between Vasati and Henri, a half orc character that belongs to my friend! I like Henri a lot, and so does Vasati.

As a high elf, Vasati didn't need to sleep, but it was often a welcome escape from his life. However, when he spent nights with Henri, it was more than that. It was sharing the night with someone he cared about, with someone who cared about him, and that was so different. When he woke, the sun not yet over the horizon, it took him a minute before he realized where he was, that the arm draped over his waist and the man lying next to him was Henri.

Vasati stared at him, from the small gap of pillows between their heads, eyes half lidded as he was still blinking away the sleep. Henri looked so peaceful when he slept, but, being with Henri was always far more peaceful than the rest of Vasati's life. It was always a foreign experience with him. Vasati was so used to the pain and cruelty from Mr. Moonlight that every kindness Henri showed him felt like more than he deserved. It was the complete opposite of every moment of his life before they met.

Mr. Moonlight had raised him with a calloused faux care, though more often, with blatantly painful words. He had been told countless times that his entire worth was in belonging to Moonlight, that he already received everything he ever deserved from him. Vasati was constantly reminded that happiness was not _for_ him, that keeping company was pointless for someone who would outlive those around him, that the only person that should matter to him was Moonlight and Moonlight alone.

Henri was in stark contrast to Moonlight. Henri was always reminding Vasati that he deserved to be happy, to be loved, to be with people who cared for him. Henri, who held him when he cried, and listened when he talked. The world was just so much better with Henri in it, so much more bearable. Their visits were something for Vasati to look forward to, something to get excited about, when there was so little to find happiness in for him.

Raising a hand, Vasati loosely entwined his arm with Henri's, fingertips gently stroking over his shoulder. Though Vasati didn't intend it, the motion made Henri stir, letting out a groan as he slowly started to wake.

"Five more minutes..." Henri's words were mumbled, hardly awake enough to speak.

"You can have as many minutes as you need," Vasati spoke softly, with the hint of a chuckle on his voice.

There was a small pause before Henri opened his eyes. "Vasati?"

"Yes?"

"Hey. ... Morning." Closing his eyes again Henri used the arm at Vasati's waist to wrap around him and pull him in closer. Henri's hand then moved up Vasati's back, over his neck, to tangle with his hair and hold the back of his head. "Five more minutes."

Vasati took in a deep breath, closing his eye as he rested his head against Henri's shoulder. "Five more minutes."


	10. Glitchy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apollo has a glitch in his system.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so, today's word is glitchy! I didn't actually have any ideas for this one, but then I remembered warforged were a thing! So, I actually made up a character just for this prompt!! His name is Apollo, and he is very much a gentle giant.

Apollo had lived the entire war, and he had watched as the new warforged developed as people, with emotions, with souls. He did not feel these things, emotions were merely glitches in the making of a warforged, at least, that was what he had been told. He did not feel these things, because glitches were unacceptable, and he would be dismantled should his creator catch even a hint of one. When his creator died however, things changed.

He was no longer given a guided purpose, yet the war still raged, and so he threw himself into fighting. However, not even the war would last, and when he was dismissed from action as peace befell the land, he found himself adrift. He had no one to guide him, and he felt... What it was he felt he didn't know, but he felt, and he knew that to be wrong.

He began to wander, exploring towns, cities, forests, deserts, the entire world. No matter where he went, the longer he roamed the more he felt. From what he had overheard from other's conversations, what he felt was loneliness. He wanted company, but this was just a glitch, wasn't it? It wasn't real, just a mistake, one he could overcome, so he denied it. Yet still, the feeling remained.

Years passed, and Apollo remained a traveler, lost in the world, and his emotions. They grew stronger with every passing moment, harder to deny, yet Apollo grappled with their existence. To those he met he was stoic, silent, yet inside his mind he was constantly fighting with his thoughts. One day however, it became too much.

Finding himself in the middle of a dense wood, Apollo could no longer hold back the anguish that had built up over the years, and so he screamed. The birds scattered, the squirrels startled, and without needing air to speak Apollo kept screaming. It was a pained droning noise that ached and rattled, he could almost feel it pealing from every inch of his body. It lasted a few minutes, and then he went silent, the only noise around him the clattering as he fell to his knees.

He could deny it no longer. He had emotions. He had wants and needs. He had a soul, yet that was all he had. He had no companions, no home, nothing else, but he wanted it. He wanted all of those things. He wanted the happiness that he saw in so many people on his travels. He wanted to laugh and to cry and to do so many things, yet all of it seemed beyond him.

As Apollo sat in the wood, his thoughts trudged along before he slowly picked himself up. Starting to walk in the direction of the nearest village, his mind was made up. He would find all of those things, friends, a home, happiness. He would find all of those things, because this was more than just a glitch, this was living.


	11. Statue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past is hard to look at for Eden, but it makes them ever more determined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty! So, today's word is statue, and it features my OTHER wizard tiefling, named Eden!

When they were revived, Eden had no expectations of the world around them. They especially weren't expecting the statue that had been built in their honor. It was them, at least, their best likeness without actually having been around to model, and it was weird.

It was weird because they never thought they were someone worth building a statue for. Certainly, they had accomplished quite a bit before their death, but wasn't that just what adventurers did? They imagined however, with how close they had gotten to the duke, he thought greater of Eden than Eden did their self.

Fifty years had passed since then, and as Eden sat in the court yard where the statue had been constructed, they stared up at it, at them. They would come and stare at it for hours, simply thinking. Thinking back on their life before their death, before their murder. They had been such an accomplished wizard, and now where were they? They could hardly cast prestidigitation. Their body had been scoured out and they had been revived to help with a war far beyond their time, and they could do nothing.

It was maddening, and as they stared up at the statue their jaw clenched and their hands curled into fists. After all the trouble that people went through to bring them back, they were useless to them, and nobody seemed to know what to do with them now. Nobody even wanted to look at them, ashamed of the failure, ashamed of them.

Tasting blood, Eden blinked back to reality, realizing they had been biting down on their tongue hard enough to puncture it. They ran their tongue over the roof of their mouth, and clicked it to try and distract from the flavor. Getting to their feet they looked down to the ground a moment before meeting the gaze of the statue. It was them, a version of them that no longer existed, but it was them, and they would become that person once more, or die again trying.


	12. Portal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucky definitely lives up to his name, and Mr. Moonlight hates it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! Today's word is portal! I branched away from the prompt a little bit, but it was really hard to come up with ideas... Lucky is one of my first D&D characters! He's a drow cleric of Shar! Not a GOOD guy, but, he can be nice, especially if you give him caffeine, or in this case, alcohol.

Doors were always far more than they appeared. They were portals, from one place to another, some times more literally so. The Gateway was the space between they Fey Wilds and the Prime Material Plane, and occasionally where the veil was thin, doors would open to it, allowing people inside. Most of those who came in from the liminal areas of the world were from the Prime Plane, with any door close to where the planes practically touched opening to the bar that Mr. Moonlight had established eons ago.

The Gateway was mostly for those passing though, those who were already in the employ of Mr. Moonlight, but there were some that had eluded his grasp, and would go merely to remind him of that. Lucky was one of those people. When the archfey asked for his name, Lucky merely gave his nickname, refusing to answer any further questioning. Seeing Lucky as a lost cause, Moonlight gave up on him, choosing to ignore him for other patrons of the tavern. Lucky however, made sure Mr. Moonlight could do anything but.

Whenever Lucky happened upon one of the thin spots in the world, he would take whatever door he could to visit The Gateway, heading up to the bar to sit directly in front of Moonlight and grin at him. Moonlight was impossible to perceive, and so Lucky never stared at him directly to save his brain some grief, but even just looking at him from his peripheral vision was dreadful. Moonlight seemed to have a body, with a head, limbs, a torso, but did he? If he looked away any memory of what he saw when he watched Moonlight would vanish, though surely he had a face with eyes a nose and a mouth, that had to be what he spoke with after all, right?

"Good evening to you Moonlight, or is it morning here? I can never quite tell." Lucky's voice was bright and cheery, like lights on a christmas tree. "It was evening where I came from, and I figured, you know, it might be nice to have a bit of a drink."

"Lucky. I suppose you want me to serve you?"

"This is a tavern isn't it?"

"For my employees."

"People come in all the time who don't belong to you!"

"And yet when they leave, they do. With little exception."

"I'll take being an exception. Now, bartender, if you would be so kind, I'll take some whiskey, on the rocks."

The space around Moonlight became as inconceivable as he was for a second before settling and a glass of whiskey appeared on the bar before the drow. It was presumably set there by Mr. Moonlight, but it was hard to tell.

"Thank you kindly." Lucky grinned, watching Moonlight from the corner of his eye as he picked up the glass and sipped. "Mm, top shelf? You must want me to pay you something pretty."

"If you're going to make me serve you then I will bleed your pockets dry."

"Yet you don't even need money, what do you even do with it all? I'm certain you have enough to run a small country at this point!"

"More than you can imagine. It comes in handy when I have people working for me on your plane, people are less likely to cause a fuss when they're paid."

"You know, I might consider leaving you alone if you paid me."

"I've no need to do business with you. I don't need your god breathing down my neck."

"Oh come now, Shar isn't that bad, quite delightful in fact."

"I am certain the Dark Lady can be rather cordial when she wishes, but I've no desire to tangle myself with any gods."

"A shame, I'm sure we could have a beautiful partnership."

"If you gave me your name, then yes, we could."

"I'm already devoted to Shar, Moonlight, I would never think of giving that up."

"Is that why you keep coming back?"

"Oh no, I keep coming back because seeing you angry is hilarious."

"If you weren't entwined with her there wouldn't be a moment's hesitation in your death."

"But I am! So there's hesitation! And I get to keep living! Funny that, taking my teachings from the domain of death!"

"Yes. Funny."

Moonlight's words were even, but his articulation was beginning to become more precise, sharp like the knives he so longed to meet with Lucky's heart. The fact that he wanted him dead so badly was even more frustrating. When he didn't get what he wanted from someone he moved on, let it go, tried a new approach, but Lucky just wouldn't let him. Time and time again he came back just to gloat about his freedom from Moonlight's employ, and while Lucky had such a strong link to his god, Moonlight did not want to touch him without assurance of there being no repercussions.

He did not need gods meddling in his affairs, they were more trouble than they were worth, especially Shar, with her connections to Selune. Sure, making an enemy of Shar could possibly get Selune as an ally, which would be a good thing. Being the goddess of the moon, it would be more than helpful to have her on his side, but she was also of a gentle persuasion that Moonlight had no care for. Even just contacting Shar for permission to kill the drow was too much trouble, beside, he shouldn't need permission to rid the universe of pests. Yet Shar had formed a connection to this mortal, and so long as she could speak her will directly through him, he was more trouble dead than alive.

"Leave." This was a demand, there was no choice in the word at all.

Lucky chuckled, more than pleased with the results of his visit and downed the rest of his drink. Setting the glass and some coin aside he got to his feet. "I'll be back, eventually. See you soon then." He looked Moonlight head on, as hard as it was to do. It made his mind ache, but it was worth making what was hopefully eye contact before he turned and headed out the door. Moonlight was powerful, that much Lucky couldn't deny, but so long as that power couldn't touch him, he would make sure Moonlight wouldn't forget it.


	13. Melt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Swift is not where he belongs, no matter how much he wishes to be there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so, today's word is melt! I had a lot of thinking to do before coming up with this idea! Kaine is a dragonborn character that belongs to my friend, and he cares for Swift very much, even if Swift is bastard.

The final blow was quick, and once Swift lay dead on the ground, the attackers considered their victory and left Kaine with the tiefling's body. Swift couldn't hear Kaine's screams, he couldn't see Kaine's tears, because all he could see was the dim light of thousdands of candles all around him from where he stood in otherwise darkness. He looked at the candles, some tall and proud with their flames, others melted so far down that there was little left of them to burn with puddles of wax pooling on the ground.

As his eyes adjusted to the light, an easy task for a tiefling, Swift started to walk between the maze of candles laid out on the floor, but no matter how far he went the stretch of candles only continued. It was when he heard a voice, soft in the back of his head that he stopped. It was the voice of Kelemvor.

"You have much more left to burn."

Suddenly all of the candles vanished, save for one. It was teal in color, and stood with quite a bit left to it, though the flame was out, still smoking from being so recently exstinguished. Swift blinked when he saw it, crouching down to get a closer look before reaching out a hand and running a finger along the hardened wax.

"Though I know you wish nothing more than to join me, you do not belong here yet."

"If... I died, I should stay dead..."

"Your companion thinks otherwise."

A second candle appeared beside the first, green with still melting wax from the flame at its wick.

"He will refute your death for as long as he is able."

"Lord... That goes against your teachings."

"He is not my servant. His lord is that of life, and he follows him well. Your dichotomy is stark, but you shouldn't fight it. Your father has taught you from the beginning, that you will move to your next home when it is your time, and no sooner. It will be a natural progression, and it will be the next step in your journey, not the end. You have taken that to mean you may treat your life with reckless abandon, but that is not what I preach. Life is to be just as respected as death, one would not exist without the other, both are equally important."

Swift rubbed his thumb over the side of the green candle, expression calm, though with a sadness that the candle light reflected in his eyes. "The undead are not something to be sought."

"The undead are those who cling to life even after theirs has come to finality, forcing a flame to exist where it shouldn't. Your revival is not so. You can see it clearly, how much left there is for you. You may go out, time and time again, but until there is no wax left to burn, you will have more to do."

Swift looked between the two candles. One was shorter than the other, and it made his chest feel tight. "And when one candle goes out before the other one is done? What if they don't want to be lit? What if they go out with wax still left, after that?"

"They will continue to burn until they have melted down to their end, and be greeted in the darkness that follows their light, by those who have gone there before them. Even if they extinguish, their flame will be reignited until they have burned to nothing. So long as there is wax to burn, a life will be had, and while it is burning it should be cared for to make sure it reaches the end of its journey properly."

There was a moment of silence as Swift held his hand above the flame of the green candle, feeling its warmth. "I'm sorry, lord."

"You speak as if you are of omniscience, as if you are to know all that is about the world and understand it exactly. You are but one light among many, your candle shaped by the wax that has already melted down the sides. Even now you are changing. You will not be the same shape as you were when you went out, the still warm wax is altering you in this moment."

Swift swallowed at a lump in his throat, as he pulled his hand back to hug himself, still crouched by the candles. Before another word could be spoken, here was a crackling as the teal candle ignited, causing Swift to bite down on his tongue.

"I will see you again, Serenity. You are one of my brightest flames."

Swift's eyes shot opened and he gasped and sputtered as air reached his lungs for the first time since his passing. He coughed on the blood still in his mouth, and he could feel each throb of his heart in his chest. As his eyes regained focus, he finally saw Kaine, he could finally feel the tears dripping onto his face.

"You bloody idiot don't you ever scare me like that again!" Kaine's words were strained, hoarse from crying, and as he felt relief for the first time since the fight began, he pulled Swift into his arms and hugged him. Swift continued to cough even as his breathing settled, and as he fully took in the embrace, he closed his eyes. With what little strength he had, he lifted an arm to wrap around Kaine's shoulders, wheezing from how tightly he was being held.

Swift was alive again, and though his mind was full of bloodied cotton, he felt warmth wash over him as a fire burned deep in his soul.


	14. Misunderstood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astrid could always see a sadness in Quinn, but it's not something Quinn ever feels ready to talk about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's word is misunderstood! I kinda struggled with this one because there was just a LOT I could do with it, and in the end what I wrote was only loosely based off it, but THAT'S JUST HOW IT BE!! Quinn is a human boy who belongs to a friend of mine, and he has gone through a LOT of pain. Astrid is my own character, a kalashtar who doesn't know her heritage, and together, they are fwends.

The day was calm, with a gentle breeze and falling autumn leaves from the forest trees. Quinn and Astrid had gone for a walk, just the two of them, after managing to convince Musgo to stay back at the house. It was more like threatening Musgo to stay back at the house, less Astrid ignore him for the rest of the day, but it worked and that was what mattered. Walking through the forest the pair eventually found a dry patch beneath a towering oak tree with leaves bright and warm in color. They had settled down with one of them sitting on either side of the trunk, leaning back to rest against it as they talked and enjoyed the nature around them.

There had been a lull in the conversation when Astrid decided to ask something that had been on her mind. "Quinn... Do you ever talk about your sadness?"

Quinn blinked, confused. "I'm not sad, Astrid."

"Not openly... But I can see it, underneath everything it's there... A pain."

Quinn pursed his lips and bit down on his tongue, a silence settling before he responded. "Look, I just... It's not something we need to talk about."

"We do not have to talk about it, but it should be spoken of, with at least one person. Jackson, perhaps?"

Thinning his lips again Quinn huffed through his nose. "Jackson's not the talking type, at all. It's fine, Astrid, don't worry about it."

"If that is what you wish."

There was another lull, as Astrid watched the leaves rustling in the branches above them, and Quinn struggled with the weight of emotions she had unknowingly stirred up. There were so many thoughts in his head, whirling around like a storm. He wanted to talk, but at the same time he never wanted to speak of it again. He wanted to let Astrid in, but the fear of caring for someone and losing them was a beast he had not conquered. With so many opposing ideas in his head, he found it hard to understand himself, to know what he really wanted, to know what he should do.

Astrid broke the silence again. "I'm sorry Quinn."

The conversation was a welcome distraction. "Sorry for what?"

"I did not mean to bring up something that could be painful for you. You are my friend, and as a friend, I do feel worry when I notice things like that."

"Astrid... It's okay, I'm okay, you didn't hurt me, or whatever."

The silence that followed was met with the wind jostling the leaves, causing them to bustle amongst each other and shush. With each moment that passed without conversation, Quinn felt his tongue grow heavy in his mouth, his jaws seemingly cementing shut, making it harder and harder to speak, but he did.

"It's not like it matters anyway."

The wind picked up, tossing fallen leaves around them before settling, allowing the leaves to drift to the ground. Quinn hugged himself, a chill running down the length of his body as the breeze went right through him.

"You say that as if, you, don't matter." Astrid's words were calm, even, as they always were.

Quinn didn't respond.

"You misunderstand Quinn. You are not someone insignificant, no one is, you have meaning in this world."

A bitterness rose inside him. "Yeah, right, to be the sole survivor of a great tragedy, to lose everything I ever had with no way of getting it back, how meaningful." The second the sentence had left his mouth, he realized the spite and winced. "Sorry..." The word was croaked out, a weak apology that left him feeling empty. "I just, I get it. Life is special or whatever, it's important and I should be glad to have mine but, fuck, Astrid..." He hung his head as a weight settled on his shoulders.

"I'm sorry Quinn. That you had to experience such great catastrophe, leaving you with so much anguish, that it made you come to feel you don't deserve to live. I'm sorry. You may never accept your life as worthy of living because of that, and that itself is tragic, because you are wonderful, Quinn."

Swallowing down the lump in his throat Quinn was glad Astrid was sitting on the other side of the tree, so she couldn't see his tears. "You don't even know what happened."

"No... But that doesn't invalidate your pain. I do not need to know your past, because right now in the present, you are hurting, and that is what I care about. You do not have to tell me, but as someone I care about I will always want your suffering to ease, no matter where it comes from."

Quinn swallowed again, this time to hold back a sob as he brought his hands to his face to rub the wet from his eyes. He could not stop himself from sniffling however, letting out the breath he took with shaky lungs that rattled him to his core. He was so focused on trying not to make any sound, he didn't notice the crunching of leaves from the other side of the tree.

Astrid had gotten up, only to sit back down by the tree, still facing away from Quinn, but now close enough to reach out and put a hand on his knee. With the contact, Quinn gasped, lowering his hands to look at her own. His fingers curled and clenched into fists, before he dried a hand off on his jeans, and held Astrid's. She could feel him trembling, and squeezed gently, eliciting a squeeze back from Quinn, though his grip was tight like the breath in his lungs. It lasted for a moment before both his hand and his chest relaxed at the same time.

"Thanks... Astrid."


	15. False God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pioneer is introduced to a force too brilliant to look at, and too dangerous to let close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, today's prompt was false god, and I REALLY struggled with this one, but I managed to make it. Pioneer is an aasimar who hides who he is to keep a low profile, which is sometimes hard to do as a captain in the army, but he tries.

As a captian, Pioneer had certain duties. One of these duties occasionally involved visiting villages and cities for various political gatherings and events. One such visit was to a town called Addersfield, a small but prosperous town. When he arrived to a meeting with the duke of the village he instantly noticed something was amiss.

The duke, a man of average stature named Lucas Athelney, greeted them and was cordial, but he was not alone. This was to be a private meeting between the duke and the guard sent to see him, but standing on the right side of the duke's chair, was a man, introduced only as Savino the duke's sole advisor. Several times over the course of the meeting, Savino would whisper into Lucas' ear, and though nobody else could hear what was being said, it was clear he was guiding the conversation. When confronted Lucas dismissed the inquiry and pushed things forward. When the meeting was over, the small company Pioneer had been sent with was taken to their respective rooms and left to their own devices.

Unsettled with the duke's company during their meeting, Pioneer had gone to seek Savino himself, finding him in the library.

"Savino..."

Savino looked up to Pioneer's gaze, and smiled. "Ah yes, good captain, what brings you to me?"

"I was just... Curious, about your relationship with the duke. It's usually expected that during meetings like that, that advisors and such are not present."

"Ah, I understand. Please, come sit." Savino gestured to a chair beside his own. Pioneer watched him for a moment before taking the seat offered to him. "You see, the duke and I are _very_ close, because I am his direct connection to the Shining God."

Pioneer's eyes went wide and his body froze. Was this... Another aasimar? He had never met another before, but... He had never heard of the Shining God either. "Are... You..." He lowered his voice to a whisper, "Are you an aasimar?"

Savino blinked before letting out a light and fluttering laugh. "No no, you mistake me for one who worships those falsehoods, I would never associate with those fools. The Shining God is one far beyond those, a being of pure light that will some day shower the world in its radiance."

Pioneer felt his jaw slowly grow stiff. So this was not an aasimar, and not only that, he was a man who denounced all other gods for his own. "I... Don't believe I've ever even, heard, of your god..."

"A pity, captain, but you will see one day. Soon the Shining God will grace all of Toril with their light and those of us who believe will be ascended."

"How do you... Speak, to them?"

"They send me visions, captain, of brilliant and blinding splendor that reaches all corners of the universe. Would you like to see?"

Without waiting for permission, Savino reached out and took Pioneer's hand, and in that moment all was gone save for a shining, virulent light. As he saw it, all Pioneer could feel was dread as the light seemed almost too bright to conceive, yet he couldn't look away. When Savino let go of his hand, Pioneer gasped, his body shaking as the terror started to settle into his bones. He did not like to hold his connection to the divine higher than any other, but he could tell, that was no god.

He blinked his vision back into focus, panting as he looked at Savino once more, who only smiled serenely at him.

"You have seen them, and now, they have seen you, and you will be embraced with their grace when they come."

Shuddering, Pioneer got to his feet, unable to look away from Savino, completely shaken from what he saw. This was madness, that was a force of chaos and pain, and Savino was whispering its words to Duke Athelney. Tearing his gaze from Savino, Pioneer attempted to walk out, but he found his steps overtaken by tremors, and could only manage to stumble his way through the library. Closing the door behind him he leaned back against it, still struggling for air. Whatever the Shining God was, it was dangerous, and he could not let it reach Toril, no matter what.


	16. Night Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gryida drags Kharon to the club, but Kharon is still on a no fun diet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's prompt was Night Club! It was pretty easy figuring out who I wanted to use, but the specifics of what happened were a bit up in the air until I started writing. OOPS! Anyway, this is the finished result! Gryida belongs to my friend, as always!

Kharon hardly went to any bars or club, save for the one he worked at, and even then it was only ever for work. He was even hesitant on going to this one, but Gryida had practically begged for him to join her. It was new, and apparently had an excellent DJ that always put on the perfect music for dancing. Kharon wasn't much of a dancer, he wasn't exactly coordinated enough for that, but Gryida liked to dance, and more importantly, flirt with people she met on the dance floor.

From a table by the side of the wall, Kharon watched the dancing crowd, occasionally searching out to see where Gryida was. She wasn't too hard to find, being taller than most of the people there, which Kharon was thankful for. He drummed his fingers on the table, catching sight of his friend and seeing her speaking to some elf. He wondered vaguely if she would try to bring someone home. He wouldn't mind, but seeing as they took his car, he didn't exactly want to play chauffeur, unless they agreed to walk while he drove himself home.

He started to let his mind wander, but when Gryida looked directly at him and pointed in his direction he blinked and sat a bit straighter. She was pointing to him as she talked to the elf who was now looking at him too, the two of them smiling. Unsure of what else to do, Kharon lifted his hand from the table and gave a short awkward wave which was returned by both Gryida and the elf. The pair grinned at each other before starting to approach the table.

Kharon's mind went as blank as his expression. What did they want? What were they talking about? When they arrived all he could do was stare up at them, not really sure what to do or say.

"Kharon! This is Jorie! They're a fan of the band! They watch us play at your bar all the time!"

Kharon blinked before looking over to Jorie, slowly recognizing their features. Now that Gryida brought it up, he did recall seeing them quite a bit at his work. "Uh, hi, Jorie."

"Hi Kharon!" Jorie bounced on their heels, giving a short excited wave as they smiled between him and Gryida. "It's nice to see you somewhere else for once!"

"Yeah, I mean, I don't actually go out that often." Kharon slowly started to relax, leaning back in his chair.

"Gryida was telling me! She said it was like pulling teeth to get you to come here!" Jorie giggled.

"He's basically the no fun police!" Gryida added, still grinning.

Kharon squinted. "Excuse you, I am the acting no fun captain." This managed to get a laugh out of both Gryida and Jorie, a proud smile reaching Kharon's face.

"Would the no fun captain grace us with a dance?" Jorie asked with a wide smile.

"That counts as having fun, I could get fired for that. I'd have to turn in my badge."

"Booo!" Jorie pouted.

"Come _on_ Kharon! Just one dance! It'll be fun!" Gryida was pouting now as well, though, more in an attempt to use puppy dog eyes than anything.

Kharon, however, was immune to sad eyes and shook his head. "I'm not dancing."

" _Boooooo!_ " Jorie and Gryida were in unison.

"You two can do all the dancing for me, I'm sure."

Gryida rolled her eyes and scoffed. "You really are no fun! What's the point of bringing you to a club if you're not going to dance?"

"Being the designated driver?"

Gryida squinted and then sighed. "Fine, fine, but we're going to have fun later." She grinned again. "I'll _make_ you have fun."

Kharon blinked, a hint of blush coming to his cheeks, though it was invisible in the dim light of the club. "Is that a threat?!"

"Yep! Have fun with your water, Kharon!" Gryida turned on her heel and linked arms with Jorie who giggled as the two of them walked back to the dance floor. Kharon stared after them, eyes wide before he huffed and shook his head. Gryida was going to be the end of him one of these days, she was going to fun him to death. All in all though, he supposed that wasn't the worst way to go out.


	17. Force Field

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vasati gets a little stuck, but there is pity to be had for those who work for the Moonlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's prompt was force field and WOW I had no idea what to do! But I finally came up with something! Thank GOD!! Pls enjoy some Vasati content.

Vasati was never a very fast runner, nor was he incredibly dexterous. He was usually able to escape wherever he needed, but in this maze of a temple his connection to the gateway was muted. This meant he was left to run when the spirit in the temple awoke and set her eyes on him. He had to make his way outside, but as the spirit gained on him, he felt ice run through his veins making it hard to stay moving.

Vasati was just about to turn a corner when his escape was halted as a shimmering wall of energy surrounded him, holding him in a sphere from which he could not break out. Startled by the sudden barrier, he tripped over his own feet and fell to the ground, causing the sphere to roll forward slightly, though only far enough to meet with the wall nearby. With a groan he turned himself around, ending up sitting with his back to the wall, though it only rested against the side of the sphere. All he could do was watch the spirit approach.

Though she was of the undead persuasion, the spirit was hardly lacking in beauty, a woman of grace and poise materialized of a pearlescent flowing mist that rolled off her in lofty waves. When she reached the sphere, and thus Vasati, she looked down at him with disappointment, clicking her tongue.

"Did you honestly think you could steal from me, mortal?" Her words echoed lightly, though they held strength as she knew she had control.

"I... Apologize, Mistress of the Eve, I just came to get what my employer seeks."

"You came to my resting place to take my blade? A blade blessed by the goddess Selune herself? How foolish must your employer be to think it would be so easily taken."

"He... Is very... Confident, in my abilities."

"Return it and I will be so gracious as to free you."

"I... Can't exactly do that."

"Then you will rot here in my temple."

"Please understand, that I really must bring the weapon to him."

"You would face no worse punishment than your death, which is what you shall receive here should you not relinquish my blade."

"As much as I would willingly accept that punishment, I know there is... Worse... Waiting for me, should I not succeed..."

The spirit looked at Vasati with curious eyes, examining his face and seeing the honesty of his words. "How pathetic, that you hold such little care for your own life. Your employer must be a miserable being if he actively destroys the desire to live."

A dry laugh escaped Vasati. "You're not wrong... He definitely has a way of making people want to die..."

The Mistress of the Eve stared Vasati down, her gaze narrow as she studied him. "Tell me mortal, what is his name?"

"Ah... Well, you probably haven't heard of him, since, you've been dead for a few thousand years, but, he goes by Mr. Moonlight."

She hissed. "That which wishes to reach his influence as far as the moonlight itself, I have heard of him. A vile creature unfit to associate himself with the moon, I do not envy your employment." The Mistress thought a moment before dispelling the sphere with a flourish of her hand. "I have a deal for you, mortal. Show me the blade that I might take it's power back into mine own soul, you may present it to him, but it will be a useless artifact in his hands. You will have fulfilled your duties, and he will have gotten nothing from it."

Vasati blinked up at her, admittedly moved by her kindness, pulling the sword from its hiding place without hesitation, and presenting it to her. The Mistress lifted a hand and from her fingertips a bright glow shined forth, reaching the blade and lighting it in a brightness that all but blinded Vasati until it was gone. The magic had been drained from the blade, and with it's leaving the visage of the Mistress of the Eve vanished as well. However as Vasati got to his feet, and stowed the sword once more, he heard three words ring clearly in his head.

"Safe travels, mortal."


	18. Shattered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kharon has a bit of a hiccup at work, but, his coworkers are there to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty! SO! Today's word is shattered, which was pretty easy considering my boy Kharon is all SORTS of shattered when it comes to the head. He was in a pretty BAD accident that gave him some pretty BAD amnesia, and sometimes it gives him some pretty BAD disassociation.

Though his brain damage had been healed physically, the mental scars Kharon had were still strong, and still ached. Every now and then they would flare, and cause his mind to fracture until there was no more. It would happen at random, and usually after it had happened once, it would keep happening until it decided to give Kharon some peace for however long it wished. Without any warning to the sudden vacancy in his mind, as Kharon stood behind the bar at work, he all but froze as his consciousness split into pieces before dissolving away into nothing.

Like a statue he stood still, with a face void of any expression, his hand still holding the rag he had been cleaning the bar with. Initially there was no notice, everyone going about their own business as he had been doing, but attention was drawn to him immediately after a glass had been emptied. The regular turned to Kharon, having been facing their companion, to ask for another beverage, but when they saw him frozen behind the bar, they too paused.

"Kharon? Hey, Kharon..." The regular got to their feet and waved a hand in front of Kharon's face. "Shit..." They quickly made their way to the opposite end of the bar, getting the attention of the other bartender on duty. "Hey, something's not right with Kharon."

Gildi looked up from her conversation with another guest to the regular, and then down to where Kharon stood. She turned back to her customer and smiled. "One moment." Without further hesitation she walked over to Kharon and put one hand on his back while the other rested on his arm. "Come on, Kharon. Let's get you to the back."

Kharon didn't respond, only moving with Gildi's guidance as she took the rag from his hand before carefully walking him to the back of the house. As they passed through the kitchen, the chef for that night, a tiefling named Calamity, noticed them going through. Without an order to tend to he strayed from his post to see what was going on.

"He good?" Calamity was pretty sure of the answer, but, he had to ask.

"He will be, in a bit, call Llyth. He'll want to know, probably stop by... And stay with him while I go back out there." Gildi spoke as she walked Kharon further back to the staff room, guiding him to the couch there and gently pushing his body to sit. "There, you're safe, Kharon. Calamity will be with you, okay? You'll be alright." Gildi rubbed a hand over Kharon's back, knowing speaking to him was useless, but unable to stop herself.

When Calamity came in from the kitchen, he sat down beside Kharon, leaning back against the couch. "Alright, Gildi, I'm tagged in."

"Thanks, Calamity." Gildi gave him a small smile before heading back to tend to the bar.

Left alone with Kharon, Calamity took a deep breath that was exhaled as a sigh. "You really freak us out when you do this you know? Knowing we just gotta wait for you to come back..." He reached out a hand to settle on the back of Kharon's head. "You're going to give Llyth a heart attack one of these days. Old man just flips every time... ... Don't tell him I called him an old man, he's "still young for an elf," or whatever." Calamity ruffled Kharon's hair. "Come back soon, okay?"

Kharon's mind was void of all things. There were no thoughts, there were no emotions, just an expanse of nothing that encompassed all of him. His eyes had glazed over, practically reflecting the emptiness behind them, until suddenly he was there again. He blinked and looked around, not remembering going back to the staff room-, ah. He didn't remember going back to the staff room. It had happened again... Feeling the hand on his head he looked over to see who it was, raising a brow when he saw Calamity next to him.

"Uh, Calamity?"

Calamity by that point, was scrolling through his phone with one hand while the other absently pet the back of Kharon's head, though he looked up when Kharon spoke. "Oh good, you're awake." He gave Kharon one final pat to the back of his head before withdrawing his hand. "You've got some soft hair you know."

"Thanks... I get it from, and this sounds crazy but, using, shampoo." Kharon brought a hand up to his face, dragging it down his eyes and nose to rest at his mouth. "How long has it been?"

"About an hour, hour and a half. Llyth has taken over for you out there, for now, but he wants to take you home."

Slouching against the couch cushions Kharon dropped his hand into his lap. "Yeah... Alright."

"You want me to go get him?"

"Not yet..."

"Take your time."

Kharon just nodded. He was back, back in one piece, but he could feel where he had been cracked, the faults along which he broke. He felt fragile, as if even the faintest touch could shatter him once more. He wondered, what it would be next that tore him asunder.


	19. Teeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Swift is met with something great, and terrible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, today's prompt was teeth! I had an idea of what I wanted to do pretty early on, it just took a bit to work out the details! But I'm happy with what I've got!

Swift wasn't one often met with anything other than normal dreams when he slept, but as he lay in bed something beyond him crept into his mind. He found himself surrounded by a vast darkness, one not even his vision could penetrate, but as he looked around, something caught whatever light there may be and glinted. He squinted and wandered toward it, before he found himself frozen in a mixture of fear and awe. Thousands of eyes opened before him, glowing with a deep red light that reflected on the teeth. There were so many teeth, too many, gnashing and grinding together as each and every eye swiveled to look at him.

Swift felt his entire body freeze, both in temperature and motion, as the sight that bore down on him reeked of a power far beyond his comprehension, and then it, whatever it was, spoke.

"Boy of Kelemvor, a pity you have forgotten your roots, and sing praise to a being so unworthy of it. There are those who exist far beyond his reach, he is not as powerful as he may think."

One by one, new eyes began to open, until they had all but surrounded swift, as the teeth grit and clenched. The voice itself was a whisper, though deceptively sweet, like a cruel mother's lullabies.

"Your ancestry is greater than even him. You hail from my children, demons so small compared to my entirety, but I house them well, and what do you do with that? You ignore it. You could be so much more than what you are. I can see it in your future, if you just listen to my whispers, you could be great."  
  
The eyes blinked, individually, as some of the teeth parted, letting out a boiling breath that burned against Swift's skin. Still, he couldn't speak, could hardly think, as true terror settled deep in his bones.

"You are afraid, child, as you should be, but know I have so much to offer you, as I do all my children willing to listen. You are very lucky to meet me, won't you let this luck last, and let me take you under my wing?"

There was no verbal response, the screams stuck in the back of Swift's throat, though very alive in his mind.

"You are hesitant, I will give you time to think, my child. My patience is as endless as I am. The Abyss will be waiting for you."

Swift's eyes shot open and he sputtered for air. There was sweat soaking his pajamas, and his entire body was shaking. What was that? What _was_ that?! His heart wasn't showing any signs of slowing, and, though trembling, he struggled to his feet off the bed to stagger his way into the bathroom. His footfalls were heavy, and as he fell to his knees on the bathroom floor he gripped the sides of the toilet before emptying out his stomach.

The braid at the back of his neck clung to the sweat on his skin, making him feel even warmer than he already did. Tieflings were naturally warmer than most, but in this moment he felt his temperature had reached far beyond what was normal for even him. Panting he slumped down beside the toilet, holding his head in his hands before resting it on the floor, the cold tile welcome against his cheek.

All of this was enough to wake Kaine who had been sleeping in a second bed in the small hotel room. He woke in time to hear Swift retch, and winced. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he got to his feet and wandered to the bathroom door, flicking on the lights from there. Seeing Swift on the floor banished any feeling of tiredness as he quickly scrambled to kneel beside him, hands hovering over Swift's shoulders as he was unsure if he should touch him or not.

"Swift?! What the bloody hell is going on?! Swift!"

Swift forced his head to turn so he could look up to Kaine with watery eyes. He coughed, choking on his own spit before letting his gaze wander to the ceiling behind Kaine. Swallowing down the saliva he dragged a hand from his side, and raised it to hold onto Kaine's. He didn't know what had happened, but if something was waiting for him, he would keep it waiting.


	20. Cloaked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are some forces out there that are in fact, greater than the Moonlight itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's word was cloaked, and it inspired me to make a character I've been wanting to have for a while now. Mr. Moonlight's not too happy about it, but I sure am. :)

The Gateway home of Mr. Moonlight was a place that few could enter on their own volition. In fact there were usually only two people coming and going from the home, Vasati, and Mr. Moonlight himself. The structure was expansive, housing many rooms that were in fact quite useless. Bedrooms, bathrooms, parlors, studies, most of them were out of use, in fact, there were very few rooms that actually were lived in. However there was one person who would pay visit from time to time, a force far beyond Moonlight's reach, but still interested in his efforts.

Moonlight could tell instantly when they arrived, though the knock on the door to his office was also a dead give away. His gaze, what there must be of it from what was surely his eyes, would have pierced through the door should they hold any more power than a simple stare.

"It's open." His word's were dry, unamused as they were whenever this visitor arrived.

The door flung open and a gust of wind rushed into the office, rustling the many papers on the desk before rising to the ceiling and vanishing. Where the wind had died, stood a figure, upside down on the ceiling, though, their cloak made of the night sky itself, remained draped over them, unaffected by gravity. The hood of the cloak tilted slightly, revealing a void beneath it, save for two eyes that glowed with ever changing color.

"Hello my child." The voice was light and soft, like the ether of the galaxies that glittered in their cloak.

"I am no child of yours, Nyhm."

Nyhm began to walk the length of the ceiling to one of the walls, stepping onto it before making their way down to the floor and then stepping onto that, facing Moonlight.

"You are of a time far after my own, still a child, still so young. To think you once looked kindly upon me when you were so much younger, with eyes conceivable and so soft. It seems such a short time ago."

"It has been many millenium since that time."

"But just a blink in my eyes."

"What are you doing here?"

"Such hostility my child." Nyhm slowly began to approach the desk. "After I looked so lovingly after you. Yet you have become cold like the moon which you have so taken to." Once on the same side as Moonlight, a hand emerged from beneath the cloak, an appendage that sparkled with the stars much like their clothing, reaching into the inconceivable void that surrounded Moonlight to take hold of his cheek. There was no hiding from Nyhm, his face was clear to them, and their touch steeped his mind in a frigid void much like the vast vacuum of space. "So cold. Yet you do not stop, you will freeze, my child, and shatter into dust."

"Nyhm..." The name was gasped out as the space around Moonlight started to shudder in and out of understanding. Nyhm's colorful yet vacant eyes stared into his own, their stare as boundless as the heavens themselves.

"Hush now child, and listen. Your cruelty will be your undoing, and when you fracture into thousands of pieces, they will be scattered so far and wide there will be no saving you. You will reach your end one day, and when you do, I will be there to take you to the furthest reaches of all universes. Knowing this will not stop you, as it is your destiny to meet company with the moon before its weight bears down and breaks you. You will stop as you started, my child, with me."

They turned their hand to brush the backs of their fingers against his cheek. "I will leave you now. I merely wished to see you. Good fortune, little Moonbeam."

With another torrent of wind that threatened to tear the office apart, Nyhm was gone. Moonlight took a deep breath, cursing with it as his hand curled into a fist. Damn Nyhm... Damn them straight to the Nine Hells.


	21. Golden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vision of King's Gold has a somewhat unconventional relationship with his magical patron, but he likes it that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO! This piece is for golden, and I instantly knew who it was going to involve when I saw the word. Vision and Oswin are older characters of mine, and though originally, Vision was a talking ocelot named Elliot, I reworked him into an ocelot tabaxi for D&D world. They are very good friends!

Being the only warlock of a lich seemed to have more advantages than disadvantages. For instance, Vision of King's Gold was very close to his patron, in fact, one might even call them friends if the lich would allow it. Oswin did enjoy Vision's company, and did quite dearly want to call him friend, but he knew that it was never the best idea for anyone to befriend a lich. Still, the tabaxi would visit him, keep him company, despite Oswin's request to keep his distance. Normally a lich was not one to deny the request of, but Oswin was different, he was kind. He did not come into his power out of greed, or desire to surpass death, he became what he was to serve his people. A noble lich, something of a paradox, but that was Oswin, and knowing his patron meant no harm, Vision knew he could step out of bounds every now and then to pay a visit.

As he entered the old castle, Vision passed through the decrepit halls, trailing a paw along the cobble passages. The illusion of them would keep any fool traveling them for hours, nearing no closer to the true lair than the front door, but Vision was no fool. At least, not in those regards. As he continued, he made his way right through the tricks and turns, and into the start of the true sanctum. The light of the torches on the walls glittered in his golden eyes, gleaming much like the coins in the eye sockets of the cat skull on his staff that too glinted in the flame. He was sure of his way, and though he knew Oswin would protest, he would not stop until he had found him, wherever he may be hiding that day.

"Oswin!" His voice echoed off the walls, bouncing back to him, as clear as when he first spoke. "Oswin, I brought you a gift! Where are you?" Though he expected the lack of response, he let out a soft sigh, opening doors to peek inside of empty rooms before moving on. "You can't avoid me forever, Oswin!"

As if that was all the convincing he needed, Oswin stepped around the corner, into Vision's vision. The old king, nothing but bones and dark magic now, swirling around his skeleton like a thick black smoke, dressed in the attire of his former self, of royalty. Two pinpricks of red light that served as Oswin's eyes looked to Vision, and though there was no way for him to truly show his expression on his face anymore, he looked tired.

"Vision of King's Gold... You have come to me once again... I suppose I cannot just tell you to leave, then?" Oswin's voice was rich, stately, befitting of the speeches he must have given during his life, reminiscent of crimson crushed velvet.

"Not at all. Let us go to the kitchen and prepare some tea then, and I'll give you my surprise." Vision smiled at him, nodding to the parcel tied onto his staff as he mentioned the gift.

With a deep breath, though useless to him in function, Oswin conceded and began leading the way to the small kitchen. He had no need for food or drink, but almost in spite of his demand for absolute solitude, he kept the kitchen ready to serve guests. After all, he did not truly wish to be alone, and though he knew it was unsafe, he was thankful for these visits.

Having arrived, Oswin began to boil some water, in preparation for making tea, one of the few goods he kept in the house to serve. Vision took a seat untying the parcel and resting it on the small table that was perhaps supposed to be for dining, but these days mostly collected dust. His eyes watched Oswin, following the whisps of darkness that fluttered into nothing around his skull, his lips curled in content.

"I hope you didn't miss me too terribly, Oswin, though I know I missed you."

"I will not deny that I enjoy your company, Vision of King's Gold, but I will always insist that it is safer for you to avoid this place."

"Nonsense, you are my patron, my means of magic, I trust you with my life."

"A grave mistake indeed."

"You haven't killed me."

"Yet."

"Oh come now, Oswin, pessimism will only hurt you further."

Oswin turned back to Vision once the water was set to boil. "So, you brought me a gift?"

"Yes. I hope you will forgive me, I know raiding tombs of the dead is highly disrespectful, but I had only the best intentions," Vision explained, as he started to unwrap the cloth around his present. The moment it reached the light, the precious stones and polished gold of the crown seemed to glow from the flickering flames, and in that moment, Oswin's eyes vanished leaving nothing but smoke.

"Vision..."

"They should call me, Finder of King's Gold."

"That can't be... It was lost so many years ago... How... Where...?" The red specks of light returned, looking to Vision.

"Well, and again, I apologize, but, I found your tomb, where you had been laid to rest when you had originally died."

"How on Toril did you...?"

"I may have done a bit of research into you while I was out. I know it's taboo to desecrate tombs and all, but, I figured, if the king whose tomb it was wasn't even there, it would be fine to rummage through what was inside."

"But I had looked... I thought... I searched the place for all that I could once I was cast out, to try and reclaim anything from my life that I could."

"It was hidden, inside your casket."

"Inside?"

"At the base, there was a panel that slid away for a small built in hole, where it was."

"I never even thought... They had put so much care into my death..."

"Never even expected you would come back."

There was a pause as Oswin took a deep breath, though it was merely a motion, one that did not even pass air through him as his darkness remained settled.

"Thank you, Vision..."

"Of course, you are my patron, and my friend, I would go to the ends of the world for you."

There was a small pause as Oswin picked up the crown, examining it in the light before looking to Vision again. "No treasure on this plane could compare to how much I cherish you."


	22. Master

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vasati meets a force greater than himself, greater than Mr. Moonlight, even.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALRIGHT! So, today's word was master, and I had been wanting to play around with Nyhm since I created them for the cloaked prompt. I've actually been developing a bit of lore for them! Maybe I'll even share it, one of these days...

Vasati had frozen, certain the sword would land straight between his ribs, through his heart. However, the world around him had frozen as well, leaving the tip of the blade barely touching his coat. When he noticed the stillness of the world, he looked around, unsure of what to make of it all. As he took a step back, away from the blade, away from the pain, he felt himself bump into something, someone, and the contact left him feeling a bitter cold and a boundless emptiness. For a moment, he almost wished the sword had pierced him, as he feared that Mr. Moonlight was behind him in that moment.

"Careful, my child. It is important to watch where you step."

That wasn't Moonlight. The voice was a cacophony of whispers and inflections, though soft and all airy in nature, and it made Vasati's heart stop a moment. Forcing a trembling breath past his lips, he turned around, his eyes meeting that of the stranger behind him, instantly entranced by the ever changing technicolor gaze. He barely noticed that the air that left him had swirled around his head as a light mist, that the temperature was drastically dropping with each passing second.

"Who...?" He couldn't finish his sentence, too enraptured by their gaze.

"I am Nyhm, my child. Introductions on your behalf are unnecessary, I know who you are, Vasati."

If it were possible, Vasati's eyes would widen further than they already had. Vasati only knew the name from one of his few successful attempts at snooping through Mr. Moonlight's office. Nyhm was a being far greater than Moonlight, his master's master. Nyhm had raised Moonlight, oh so many years ago, and taught him great and horrible magics. Nyhm was one of the reasons Moonlight was able to become an archfey.

"Master Nyhm... I-..." He didn't know what to say, words were truly lost to him in that moment.

"Hush now child. You have no need to call me master, that is not your place. I am here to ask a question of you, young one."

"Of course, anything, you can ask me anything." Vasati stammered out the words, though he wasn't quite sure what he was saying, still too awestruck to even make sense of his own sentences.

"I would like your opinion, sweet boy." Nyhm's gaze was unwavering, and Vasati found himself completely unable to look away, the shifting colorful glow hypnotic. "When my Moonbeam is to lose you, what do you think he will do?"

"When he... When I...?"

"When you die, my child."

The question itself sent a whole new sense of bitter chill to wash through Vasati. Truly, he knew that day would come, and there were many occasions where he had wished its imminence, but as Nyhm asked him the mere idea of dying seemed ages away.

"I... Don't know... Find... A replacement, I suppose."

"A replacement?" From the cloak of stars draped over their shoulders emerged a hand, as picturesque as the rest of them, dappled with shining lights and galaxies eons away. It carded through Vasati's hair, and the biting cold returned, but so did a feeling of weightlessness, as if he were truly among the vast recesses of space. "You truly think so little of yourself. You have shaped him child, in ways that he will never admit. You are not so easily replaced. There is a deeper reason, as to why he refuses to kill you."

Vasati could hardly process what was being said to him, his entire body shivering from how frigid he felt. Were they implying, Moonlight actually... Cared? About him? It seemed impossible to wrap his mind around, and though he opened his mouth to speak, not a single word came out.

"He longs so badly to take my position, to be someone's guidance, but he has not guided you well. Such pain he has put you through, poor child, if only I could take you under my wing and show you true care. But oh, your life is so fleeting, you will be gone in mere seconds for me, and I would be alone once more. A shame. A shame that he does not share the compassion that I showed him with you." The hand receded, returning to its place beneath the cloak, allowing Vasati to reclaim any warmth the air would give. "But he is not as I am, he never will be. Even when he reaches his full potential, he will still be nothing but a dying star. It will not be long after that he explodes into a beautiful display of energy and dust, leaving not even a black hole behind him."

What... What were they saying? It was getting hard to concentrate. Even with warmth returning, the longer Vasati stared into those empty eyes, the more his mind started to become just as blank. He couldn't think anymore, thoughts were barely forming, the pure cosmic pressure of simply seeing Nyhm starting to overwhelm him.

"It is not my place to interrupt, sweet child. Though I have the power to take you from him, I cannot by right alone. Space is merely there to observe, and watch the beginning and end of all things, even itself. However, as a favor to you in this moment, for answering my question, I will save you from the peril you stand in. You will not die here. Goodbye, little Moonstone."

And without even a split second to process anything that had been said, time had started again, and Vasati was elsewhere than in front of the sword guided for his chest. His heart was racing, pounding against his ribcage, threatening to break out. In the safety of the meadow now around him, he fell to his knees and started to sob, overwhelmed by the gravity of it all, only witnessed by the night sky watching from its lofty perch above.


	23. Fallen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pioneer is not met with the greater power he is used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's word is fallen, and apparently this year there is a theme of having my characters meet very STRONG entities. Listen, I'm just going to keep writing the same thing but different for the next eight days.

The night sky in Pioneer's dreams were usually dappled with eyes that shined where the stars should be, glittering just as they did. He would hear Adina, his angelic guide, their voice like a delicate breeze that rang gilded chimes, and they would tell him of his destiny. However, that night in his dreams, as the eyes opened upon the vast darkness above, there was a pulse that made his whole world shake, and the eyes went wide, before individually starting to turn red. Pioneer could only watch, and then listen, as he heard Adina scream. It was an agonized noise that echoed around him and rang in his ears, causing him to tremble with terror.

As suddenly as it started, the shrieking stopped, all of the eyes above him now crimson. Swallowing down his fear he cried out, hoping by some chance Adina was still there, could still hear him.

"Adina! Adina! What happened?! What's wrong?!"

And then he heard it, a whisper beside his ear. Adina's voice.

"Run my Pioneer, before she makes you fall."

Pioneer gasped a quick breath before running into the wheat field that suddenly sprawled out before him as the eyes began to over take the sky until it was a complete, stark and bloody red looming over him. As he ran he could hear whispers whirling around behind him, growing stronger with each passing second, becoming closer, more vicious. He couldn't stop moving, he knew it would be the end if he did, the end of what he didn't know, but it was inevitable should he slow or halt.  
  
As he ran he noticed as new eyes dappling the sky, black and endless as they bore down upon him.

"Fall, boy. Let the angel go, and give in, become a being far more powerful than you could ever hope to become."

It was a woman's voice, sickeningly sweet like a strongly masked poison, her words reaching him through the whispers.

"I am no fallen aasimar!" He cried back, though, panting with his words as he continued to rush through the wheat.

"But you could be, all it would take is a little slip, a small tumble, that's all you need."

As the voice said this, Pioneer's foot clipped a rock causing him to stumble, but he didn't stop. He made a note to be more careful, though he took a second to glance back up at the sky as he continued forward. The eyes had changed, within them was a ring of purple, surrounding what must be a wide black pupil, however, Pioneer also recognized this as the symbol of Shar. So that's who this was... Or at least, someone acting on her will. But why? Why him, and why now?

"You have worked your way up, but you could go further, you could be great. Just, trip."

"I will never fall beyond Adina's watch! I am loyal to them and to Lathander!"

"You will fall into the hands of the Nightsinger, she will reach you yet, boy. I will be back."

As Pioneer came out the other end of the wheat and into an open field of grass, there was a blinding red light before the sky went completely black. However, the whispers had vanished, and as he stopped in looked up, he could see the black fade to a more natural color, with stars slowly beginning to shine amongst forming clouds and a glowing moon. Whoever it was, they were gone, but so was Adina, at least for the moment. Pioneer stood, panting with his eyes pinned to the heavens, a dread starting to sink deep into his bones that would linger even when he woke.


	24. Betrayed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gryida has felt the deepest of betrayals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so, today's word was betrayed, and while I HAD the chance to do something cool and dramatic like all of my other pieces this month, I had another idea. Kava, Gryida and Fineas all belong to different friends, and yes! There ARE some innuendos in this one! A lot of them actually, so, you have been warned.

When Kharon looked back to Gryida he noticed her glaring at the pizza. He had expected this, seeing as he had ordered the pizza to have mushrooms on one half, but she looked downright furious.

"Glaring at it isn't going to make them go away you know."

"Kharon, what did you do?"

"Well, Fineas and I both wanted mushrooms so I ordered them on half, look see, the other side is perfectly fine."

 **"You have _betrayed_ me, Kharon." **Gryida took special care to hiss out the words in orc as she turned her glower to her now enemy.

"What?! Look! It's just half the pizza Gryida! You don't have to eat any of that half!"

**"This slight will not be forgiven so easily."**

At that moment, Kava had started to walk into the kitchen, but when she saw Gryida looming over Kharon she stopped, and then promptly turned around to leave. As fun as it would be to watch Kharon die, she did not have time for that right now. Kharon tried to meet her gaze, trying to call for her aid through eye contact alone, but she did not look at him as she turned, giving him the cold shoulder. As much as Kharon dreaded her leaving, the chill was to be expected of a white dragonborn.

"Listen, look, Gryida, please." Kharon had his hands held up as if in self defense.

**"I'm listening."**

"Okay, so, it's a pizza, with mushrooms, yes, but it _also_ has double meat! It's got pepperoni _and_ sausage! Your favorites! I mean, if anyone knows about how much you love meat, it's me, so of course I ordered both."

Gryida squinted. "Was that a sex joke?" She was admittedly amused, but she wasn't going to let on to that.

"Yes?"

Closing her eyes, Gryida took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'll let you live, for now."

"That's very gracious of you."

Something of a crude smirk came across Gryida's lips. "I know."

"Kharon! Kava said you were going to die!" Fineas had rushed into the kitchen after hearing of his friend's possible peril.

"I've been pardoned, I'll live," Kharon assured as he stepped away to grab some plates.

"Oh no, you still have to do your community service," Gryida corrected, grinning at the tiefling.

Fineas looked between them both before squinting. "I don't think I like this conversation very much."

"It's fine, sweetie, why don't you get some pizza and go back out to the movie?" Gryida's grin turned into a softer smile as she turned her gaze to Fineas.

It was Kharon's turn to squint as he looked away from the cupboard. "He's just as guilty as I am you know, he wanted the mushrooms too."

"Yes, but _you're_ the one who ordered them."

Fineas blinked and looked over to the pizza. "That's what this is about?!" He stepped closer to the table to get a better view of dinner. "Ohh, but they look so good, Gryida." He turned his gaze back up to her. "Don't worry, I'll sacrifice myself and eat all of the mushrooms so you don't have to."

"Hey! I didn't order them just for you!" Kharon reminded.

"Oh, and, I guess Kharon can help." Fineas was the one grinning now.

"Fine, you two enjoy your horrible pizza, but Kharon, I'll make sure you'll be serving your sentence, soon."

"Augh, gross." Fineas groaned out the words as he took a plate and grabbed some food. "I'll be in the living room, staying out of whatever the heck this is."

"Of course, sweetie, we'll be right there!" Gryida chimed, beaming at him as he headed out of the kitchen before smirking at Kharon once they were alone again. "I hope you're prepared for hard time."

"Do I get an orange jumpsuit and everything?" Kharon couldn't help but be cheeky.

"You'll just have to wait and see."

With as ominous as that sounded, Kharon gave a short awkward laugh as he got his own food. "Right, well, let's just go watch a shitty movie for now."

With an agreement struck the night continued with no further hiccups, and all of the pizza was eaten, even the half with mushrooms.


	25. Wanderer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luck is a tricky thing, but it isn't always bad, and can lead to simple meetings of chance like this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so, this was a big struggle, the word was wanderer and I just, had no idea. I'm not super happy with this one, but, it's done at least. This one brings back Bad Luck, but in a fantasy setting, with a different character of mine, a goliath who goes by the name of Pitch! He's on the search for the dragon who started his draconic bloodline!

"What brings you in, wanderer?"

The conversation was always like this at the Unlucky Cat, a small inn settled between two major cities along the dusty road. People came in, passed through, but never stayed too long. It was just a place to rest one's bone, before continuing on the journey ahead. It made for many interesting stories, long conversations about the achievements or woes of the travelers going about their business. Bad Luck would listen to them all, serving his patrons dutifully, and with his care there were nary a few who left unsatisfied.

Pitch was little for conversation, seeing as common was not his best language, but he would be polite as he took a seat opposite Bad Luck at the bar.

"Passing though. I imagine, is case for most of your customers." As a goliath, Pitch's words were naturally deep, rumbling almost like a storm on the horizon so far away.

"You're not wrong. The ways of chance and luck of all sorts bring many people to me, among whatever journey they may be having causing us to cross paths."

A wry smile curled at Pitch's lips. "How poetic."

"I've a way of managing my words, keeps me out of trouble, and I need all the help with that I can get."

"You say that as if you get into messes easier than out of messes."

"With a name like Bad Luck, it's no surprise that's the case for me."

"Bad Luck?"

"An unfortunate name I know, but very fitting."

"I do not think you are as unlucky as you believe."

"Perhaps, but then I would have to change my name. Speaking of names, yours is...?"

"Augrin Pitchbreaker Muthulagate. I answer to Pitchbreaker, or, Pitch."

"Pitchbreaker, a mighty name."

"I had to earn it."

"Then it is well deserved. Tell me, Pitchbreaker, what guides you on your travels."

Pitch took a deep breath. "Perhaps, your... What is word...?" He paused and looked up to the ceiling. "Ah..." And then back down to Bad Luck. "Opposite. I have gift, from birth, dragon's luck. Is long story."

"A long story you say? Well, those are just what I like to hear."

The two shared a moment of eye contact before Pitch let out a soft chuckle. "Very well, Bad Luck, I will tell you my story."


	26. Paralyzed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyhm does not normally interrupt the passage of life and death, but in favor to a friend, they will do anything. Fineas is just lucky enough to witness it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, today's word is paralyzed, and I blended some different characters from different universes together, but, I had a specific idea in mind so I just kinda, went with it! Fineas of course belongs to a friend!

The battle seemed to drag, yet the last strike was fatal. When Kharon hit the ground all eyes turned to watch as his head smacked against the cobble stones and he went limp. The first to move was Gryida, though Fineas' voice broke through the weight of the air as he cried out Kharon's name. It was then that time began to slow, until everything had stopped, however, Fineas was merely frozen, paralyzed as he felt a rush of energy that caused him to blink into awareness.

What was going on? Why couldn't he move? Why did everything stop? He tried to speak, but found he could not even call the air to his lungs to do so, though, he did not feel a lack of air either. Time had slowed beyond a snail's pace, yet through some cosmic, likely godly, power Fineas was still aware of his surroundings. However as he looked to Kharon's body, even stiller in this moment, he found himself having to close his eyes as a blinding light of shifting colors grew into brightness before suddenly fading.

Blinking the spots from his eyes, Fineas eventually was able to make out a figure, in a cloak of some sort, by Kharon's body. Focusing his vision he noticed that the cloak of this person seemed to be made of the night sky itself, and as he saw them lower to rest beside Kharon he felt his heart stammer. What were they doing? Who was that? He wanted to scream, he wanted to tell them to get away, but as he stared at them, their head raised, and Fineas caught himself struck by the gaze of two brilliant and colorful eyes.

A hand was lifted from beneath the cloak, just as magical as the rest of them with twinkling stars and distant planets, and a single finger was brought to where their lips would be beneath the cloak.

"Shhh..."

The mere whisper sounded like thousands, gently shushing Fineas, making him feel the need to gasp but his lungs would not move. All he could do was watch as they turned their gaze to Kharon, their hand lowering to caress his face before curling to cup the back of his head, lifting it from the ground. Noticing the blood that had pooled beneath Kharon's skull on the road, Fineas felt sick, the need to shriek raging inside him, but he couldn't make a single sound.

"Sweet child, you do not know what gifts I give you, but use them well." A cacophony of voices, though all somehow simultaneously harmonious, reached the air. The sound alone made Fineas' insides turn to ice, as he watched the being gently lower Kharon's head back to the ground. As he watched, Fineas managed to notice that the blood had vanished, staring as the being brought their hand back to Kharon's cheek.

"Your entwined has asked of my favor to watch over you, but I cannot always help you like this. Do be careful, summer child."

Before Fineas could even blink time had started again, with no trace of the astral being in sight. His heart was slamming against his ribs as he gasped for air, stumbling but for a moment as he ran toward Kharon. Kharon, who he noticed, was breathing.

"Kharon!"

Some coughing stirred from Kharon's lungs, as he cracked his eyes open while Fineas fell to his knees beside the tiefling. Fineas didn't have any idea what happened, who that person was, but they had saved his friend, and as he pulled Kharon into his arms he felt his gratitude soar.


	27. Bitter Victory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kharon likes to drive fast in real life and in video games. Gryida rarely drives in both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just felt like doing something small and cute today. The prompt was bitter victory, and it would have been easy enough to come up with something a lot more intense, but, I had this idea and it just seemed fun. Enjoy!!

Gryida didn't care for video games much, beside the app games she played on her phone. She didn't grow up with them, and never really developed the muscle memory to play easily. It always took her a while to get the hang of the controls before she could go very far, even with games she had played before, she played so little that she had to start fresh each time. Kharon on the other hand, was actually very good at video games. Though he didn't actively remember playing them when he was younger, granted, he didn't remember _anything_ from when he was younger, he somehow had the skill to play, and play well. This meant the two rarely played video games together, as the results were usually Gryida constantly loosing and getting frustrated.

When Kharon had suggested they play a racing game, Gryida was incredibly hesitant, knowing exactly how things were going to end. One way or another though, Kharon had convinced her, and soon enough they were racing in a grand prix with some computer played characters. With the CPU on easy, Gryida was able to manage her way near the front, though, she found herself in second place with Kharon so far ahead she couldn't even see him. By the time Kharon finished his race, Gryida was still halfway through her third lap, huffing as she found her prediction to be right.

"See? I told you, I'm not going to win," she lamented, though, keeping her gaze on the television.

"Hey, it's just the first round, you're still remembering the controls. Beside, this is the first race, there's still three more races, you still have a chance!" Kharon encouraged.

As she passed the finish line, Gryida glanced to him from the corner of her eye before sighing. "We'll finish the grand prix, but then I'm done."

"Sure, whatever you say."

What happened next went far beyond what Gryida imagined. She managed to win the race, and somehow Kharon came in third. She was too floored to be suspicious, especially when Kharon started the next race almost immediately. The last two races were in quick succession. Kharon won once more, but Gryida came in first for the final race. When the final results came up, Gryida had won, she was in first place.

"I won." Gryida's words were slow, shocked.

"Gods, yeah." Kharon sighed.

"Don't sound so disappointed! I won!"

Chuckling, Kharon sat up and started to exit the game. "You did good."

"I beat you _twice_! How is that possible?!" She slowly paused as a squint overtook her eyes and she eyed Kharon as he shut the system down. "How _is_ that possible, Kharon?"

"You got good? And lucky, the CPU was dead set against me that second round."

"The bots were on _easy_ Kharon. You don't even lose when they're on extreme."

Kharon shrugged. "Who knoooows."

"You _let_ me win."

"I don't know what you're talking about,"

"You let me win!" Gryida groaned out the words as she slumped back against the couch. Damnit. "What the hell, Kharon?"

Kharon looked over to Gryida, biting his bottom lip as he got up to go plug in the controllers to charge. "I just... You never have fun when we play, so, you know, I just wanted to give you a chance to have a good time, and win for once."

Not expecting that answer Gryida blinked, looking between Kharon and the television before a warm smile came onto her lips. "Awww, Kharon. Why can't you be sweet like this all the time?"

"If I was then I'd, you know, dissolve in the tub, and that would just be gross."

Gryida giggled. "Well, I guess, to make sure you don't get too sweet, why don't we have those chips I brought over and watch something?"

"Sounds good to me, and you know, maybe one of these days, you really will beat me in a race."

"Uh-huh, you keep saying that and we'll see how much you're winning later."

Kharon gave a scandalized gasp as he turned back to look at her. "Gryida!"

It was Gryida's turn to grin now, as Kharon headed into the kitchen to get the chips. "You do this to yourself, Kharon."

He sighed while leaving the living room. "Yeah well, what can I say, I'm a glutton for punishment."

Gryida giggled as she started to switch the television over to a streaming service. The win may have been bittersweet, but that did very little to spoil her day.


	28. Burned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fineas learns the art of burning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so, today's prompt was burned. I was tempted to go with like, actual fire, but then I remembered that insult burns were a thing. For reference, the last line only really makes sense when you know that Kharon is an amnesiac, which, you might have caught onto if you read the other pieces. If not, well, I hope you like it anyway!

"Yeah but, at least I can reach the top shelf."

Fineas was floored, stammering back to the realization of what Kharon said. "Hey! I'm not that short!!"

"Ohhh! Fineaaas!! He burned you gooood," Kava teased, snickering.

"You're shorter than I am!" Fineas protested.

"Yeah, but he told it to you not me."

Fineas huffed and scoffed. "What even is a burn anyway?"

"You know, when someone insults you so hard you're gonna be stinging from it for a while, like an actual burn," Kava explained, still snickering.

Kharon was laughing, more from Fineas' reaction than the actual insult, but quickly tried to silence himself when he caught Gryida's glare. "Sorry, sorry, you just, set yourself up for it."

"Yeah well! What if I burned you back huh?" Fineas was still flustered, but he was quickly pulling himself together to get back at Kharon.

Kharon however, grinned, as if amused by the idea. "Oh yeah? Go ahead, I'm fire resistant, show me what you got."

"I-!! ... Uh..." Try as he might, Fineas' mind went blank.

Kharon tried his best to hold back his laughter while Kava was unable and barked out her amusement.

"You're too nice to burn anyone, Fineas," Kharon teased.

"Listen! I just, don't like being mean you know?!" defended Fineas with another huff.

Kharon decided enough was enough, and tried to move things forward. "Alright, well, when you think of your sick burn, let me know. Let's just finish the movie."

Everyone seemed to agree with Kharon, and they went back to watching the old kung-fu movie they had picked out to see how bad the fight scenes were. The entire time the movie played, Fineas was distracted, concentrating on trying to think up something to say to Kharon, but nothing came to him. When the movie ended and the credits began to roll, he groaned, lolling his head back against his shoulders.

"What? Was the movie that bad?" Gryida seemed genuinely concerned.

"No, I just can't think of any good burns." Fineas' words were completely dejected.

"Poor Fineas, guess you'll just have to live with this burn for life." Despite his words, Kharon was grinning again.

"Yeah, I guess this is just going to be something that'll stay with me forever. I'll likely never forget it." Then, with sudden clarity, Fineas' face lit up and he smiled right back at Kharon. "Unlike you."


	29. Ink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Swift always manages to surprise Kaine, and frustrate him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, today's word was ink, and I instantly went to tattoos. Now, Kaine I mentioned before but never explained that he and Swift are travel buddies who sometimes get a little raunchy and eventually slow burn into lovers. There are INCREDIBLY brief mentions of sex in this one, but no explicit detail, unfortunately. Either way, I hope you enjoy!

It wasn't unusual for Kaine and Swift to do their own things during the day, meet up around lunch to get something to eat and then head back to where they were staying. The morning had come and gone, and now Kaine was waiting patiently at the place they had designated as their converging point. Swift was late, but that wasn't unusual, leaving Kaine to stand outside and scroll through social media on his phone. However, it didn't take long before Swift's voice broke the general silence.

"Kaine!"

There he was. Kaine put his phone to sleep and looked up, opening his mouth to greet Swift back when he saw it. A tattoo, a fresh tattoo still in bloodied plastic wrap, of a black ouroboros dragon circling Swift's bicep.

"What in the _world_ is that?!" Kaine was clearly flabbergasted.

"What? It's just a tattoo, I had it planned for a while. I had to wait until we came to this city so I could go to the artist I wanted."

"You had this _planned_?!"

"Yes? Kaine, it's not like this is my first tattoo."

Kaine paused as he slowly processed Swift's words. "You already have a tattoo?"

"Yes?"

"When did you get that?!"

"Before we met? I've had it for a while."

"Where is it?!" Kaine had never actually seen any tattoos on Swift, and with their occasional moments of intimacy he was certain he would have seen one by now.

Swift's usual soft smile turned into a cheeky grin. "Kaine, I can't tell you while we're in public, it would be indecent."

"What?! Where-?! Being in public has never stopped you before!" Kaine sputtered.

"Sorry, I just can't say, it would be too embarrassing! Now let's go get lunch!" Swift began to walk past Kaine, heading in the direction of the restaurant they had picked for that day.

Kaine stammered and huffed before finally groaning in defeat. "Fine, _be_ that way, but you bloody well tell me when we get back to the hotel."

"Nah, you'll have to find it yourself."

"What?!"

"It'll be like a little surprise, when you finally see it."

With another groan Kaine dragged a hand down his face. "I don't know why I put up with you."

"If I had to guess, it's my charming personality."

"Yeah, sure."

"And the sex."

"Swift!"


	30. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Storm can usually take a hit, but there are occasions where they break her down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, well, today's prompt was scars, and it was difficult to decide who to write because... I have a lot of characters with scars... But I ended up picking my sweet tabaxi girl Striking of Storm. Storm is from an older campaign, and all three teammates belong to different friends. For reference, Eva is a minotaur, Thistle is a firbolg, and Zaleek is an aaracokra and Storm is mom friend to all. uwu

Among her team, Striking of Storm was a pillar of strength. She was their leader, and as a paladin she was able to defend and assist her crew with incredible fortitude. Because of this, it was rare to see her fall, however, there was one weakness that brought her to her knees every time. On her left shoulder was a patch of bare flesh, where the fur had been long burned away and teeth marks lingered around the edges. A scar from a hellhound bite, old, but still painful. Only one of her teammates knew about this, a secret she kept to avoid worrying her friends, and Eva was an excellent secret keeper. As their primary healer, Eva was able to alleviate her occasional aches, knowing well from her own experience the pain of old scars.

As it so happened, near the end of a drawn out fight against the undead, an arrow from a decaying archer dug itself deep in her shoulder, ripping through the scarred flesh and meeting bone. Seconds later the archer was slain, and the battle had ended, and as a calm settled over the scene Storm's team all came to see that she had fallen to her knees, gripping her shoulder around the arrow and hyperventilating. She hadn't screamed, or made any noise at all, the pain had trapped any possible sound in her throat as it settled a fog of anguish over her mind.

Eva cursed under her breath, starting to walk over while Zaleek sped to Storm as quick as he could. Thistle was stunned, shocked by the mere sight of seeing Storm so vulnerable, and remained still has his brain carefully processed what he was seeing. When he reached her, Zaleek raised his hands as if to touch her in comfort, but couldn't quite find it in himself to make contact, unsure if it would help or hinder.

"Storm." He whispered out her name before looking up to see Eva still walking over. "Can't you hurry?!"

Eva raised a brow at him, ignoring his demand. "She is not small dying child, is just shock. She will be fine."

Zaleek scoffed before looking back to Storm and crouching down beside her. "Storm..."

When Eva reached them, she too came to a crouch putting a hand on Storm's back while taking the end of the arrow into her hand. Without warning she ripped it free, going quickly to make it as painless as possible, but as the arrow head ripped through the old scar tissue Storm gasped and gagged, her body shaking.

"You could have warned her," Zaleek huffed, narrowing his eyes at Eva.

"As I said, she is in shock, she would not hear. Would be pointless. I know what I am doing, Zaleek, or do you doubt me after countless time of healing you?"

Zaleek squinted, his jaw clenching. He didn't want to admit she was right about the shock, so he glanced to the ground and ignored her question. "She's never reacted to damage like this..."

"Scar tissue can be sensitive, even after healing," Eva explained, actively avoiding elaborating on what she meant.

"Scar tissue?" Zaleek looked back up to her.

"Is not your concern."

"I mean, she's our friend? So it is at least, you know, a little our concern," Thistle interjected, having pulled himself free of his shock and walked over.

Eva sighed and rolled her eyes but made no further response. Having determined that there was nothing left of the arrow in the wound she cast a quick spell to heal it, watching the hole in Storm's shoulder seal up, though the scar remained.

With the pain relieved, Storm let out a shudder of a breath as the fog in her head cleared and she blinked back to reality, slowly realizing what had happened as she looked between her companions.

"Ahhh, hi. Sorry. I'll explain later, when we get back to the inn," she assured, before looking to Eva. "Thank you."

"Of course, now..." Eva stood back up, towering over all but Thistle with her full height as a minotaur. "Which of you children needs healing next?"

"Will you be gentle?" Thistle asked.

"Absolutely not," snorted Eva.

"But you were gentle with Storm!" Thistle was gawking.

"Storm is but little kitten, she requires delicate touch."

"She's the strongest of all of us!" Thistle was absolutely offended.

"Tiny baby kitten."

"You're the same height!"

"And you are just tiny baby, whining like you need bottle."

Thistle gasped. No matter how many times Eva compared all of them to children and babies, he was always shocked by it.

Zaleek sighed, standing back up as Storm did the same. "Can we argue somewhere else?"

"How about we stop arguing all together and go back to town?" Storm offered, gaining the gazes of all three teammates, meeting each with a smile as if the intense pain had never actually hit her. None of them could argue with Storm, which was likely why she was in charge, and so they left their battle field and made their way back to safety. It would be a long night of explanations, but, at least they would all be okay.


	31. Virus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astrid is unwell, but Musgo is determined to help her get better, and stay that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today is the final day of October! And so this is the last of my prompts!!! The final prompt was virus, so I went with one of the obvious choices and made one of my characters sick. Musgo is a warforged who was mentioned in "Misunderstood" and belongs to a friend of mine!! He is loyal to Astrid after she woke him up from a kinda, hibernation he had been in for a long and indeterminate length of time. She is his moum. Sometimes a family is a father, a daughter, and her giant warforged baby.

It wasn't often that Astrid got so sick she was bed ridden, but the flu was just enough to keep her in her in bed for a bit. The only good thing about getting sick was that the visions she got in her sleep were usually absent until she got better. Odin had taken care of Astrid many times when she was sick, having raised her from a babe, but this was the first time doing it with Musgo around.

Musgo was absolutely livid at the virus that trapped Astrid in bed, and even more frustrated when Odin told him he needed to stay out of her room while she was recovering. According to Musgo, it was even more necessary for him to be by her side while she was unwell, but Odin knew she wouldn't get much rest with Musgo in the room. Musgo could be patient, quiet, when it came to Astrid, but she would force herself to stay awake if anyone was there. Odin didn't necessarily like leaving Astrid alone too much while she was ill, he would tend to her, bring her food, books, whatever she asked for, but he made sure she got her rest as well.

At the moment, Musgo was by her bedside, taking full advantage of the time he could be with her, while Odin was down in the kitchen making something warm for her to drink.

"Astrid. I can take care of this sickness for you, I will crush it with my own hands," Musgo assured, his voice stiff, despite his worry.

"Musgo... You can help me get better, but I have to be the one to fight it," Astrid corrected with a soft sigh, looking up at him from where she lay on her side on the bed.

"You should not need to fight Astrid. I will protect you."

"It's okay for me to fight my own battles, Musgo. Besides, this isn't one you can actually fight, at all. Viruses are too small to be fought with fists. Time, medicine, rest... That's what helps."

Astrid was wise, and it was one of the reasons Musgo respected her, but it was also frustrating when she told him he couldn't protect her. How dare any virus hurt Astrid this way, he would eradicate all of them from existence for their crimes, of this he was determined.

"Then I will destroy all other viruses, so you will not get sick again."

"That's not going to work, Musgo."

"It will, I will make it so."

Astrid sighed, closing her eyes. "If that is what you wish."

"It it is not what I wish, it is simply what will be," Musgo corrected.

"You will have to do a lot of scientific studies to destroy all viruses. Though, there are other things that make people sick... Like bacteria."

"Then I will dismantle all bacteria as well."

"Some bacteria is good, Musgo."

Though he could not actually do so physically, Astrid could feel him squinting at her. "What decides what bacteria is good and what bacteria is bad?"

"That is... A harder thing to explain. I don't know all the details myself, but there are bacteria that are useful and help creatures who eat with things like digestion."

"I do not eat, I do not need these bacteria."

"No, but a lot of living things do. I do."

Musgo remained silent a moment, causing Astrid to open her eyes and look back up at him. "Musgo?"

"If some bacteria is good, and some bacteria is bad, then I will only destroy the bad bacteria."

"If that's what you want."

"It is not a matter of what I want, it is just fact."

Astrid stared up at him before noticing the sounds of footsteps coming up the stairs to her attic bedroom. Slowly, she pushed herself up, getting herself to sit back against one of the windows surrounding her bed. Odin came into the room, holding a large mug with steam rising from its contents.

"I mulled some cider, a big batch, there'll be more if you want it," he explained, walking over to sit at the foot of Astrid's bed, holding the mug out to her.

"Thank you, dad." Astrid's words were soft as she accepted the drink, admiring the steam as she stared into the depths of the cider.

Odin looked up to Musgo. "Musgo... Would you please give us a moment?"

"I will not."

Astrid paused with the mug against her lips, before lowering it and looking to the warforged. "Musgo, please go downstairs. You can come back when we're done."

There was a pause before Musgo looked away. "Fine, but arms folding protocol will be engaged the entire time."

"Thank you, Musgo."

Musgo looked back to Astrid before folding his arms and stomping his way out of the bedroom and down to the second level of the house. He would wait just at the bottom of the stairs, going no further, he would stay as close to Astrid as he possibly could. He would be there for her, always.


End file.
